The Godfather
by Harmonious Cannons
Summary: Sirius Black left behind a legacy when he died protecting his godson. Harry takes up that very mantle, as he strives to protect his god-cub. Flashbacks will be used to give background information accordingly. Please review when you read. UP FOR ADOPTION.
1. Family and Friends

**Family and Friends**

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This will be my first post Canon, but obviously non-compliant with the Epilogue (it has no right to exist) fiction. I have always been partial to the characters of the three true Marauders. This story is my take on the relationship between Teddy Lupin and his Godfather.

It germinated from the idea of a bunch of 'what if's. What if, the recuperating Magical World wanted to study Teddy Lupin? What if, the godfather who's too young to be a father due to age, but is basically an older soul due to experience, forced to take up the mantle of fatherhood? What if, the two face betrayal just as heinous as Sirius and his godson? What if, history repeats itself? Will Harry learn from the mistakes of his godfather and put his son first? What will happen when the seemingly criminal actions of the Man-Who-Won give magical Britain a body blow? Will peace survive? How will friends react? Who will remain friends?

There will be no conscious bashing, no pairings, romance if referenced will not be integral to the plot, and there will be slight vigilante action.

Read on, folks!

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 **26** **th** **October, 1998**

Harry Potter, Man-Who-Won, de facto 'Leader of the Light', defeater of the most feared Dark Lord of the past century, was sitting at the table in what he called his home for the there and then, Number 12, Grimmauld Place. He was reading a letter by Andromeda Tonks (and after her recent reinstatement into the family) nee Black. It was not any letter. It was her last before her death exactly a month before. It was bittersweet for him in many ways. Andromeda was again a daughter of the House Black. Once again she could proudly bear the name. Her Daughter, one of Harry's dearest friends – Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, was buried in the Black Family Plot. It was not a thing to savour, but it had been an acknowledgement from the new Lord of the Family, that Tonks bore the blood and had the right to wield the magic of the House of Black, and therefore, so did any child that she would bear.

Andromeda was also the grandmother of the Heir of House Black.

It had been one of the biggest troubles, apart from the escaping DEs and the rats that jumped the sinking ship of Voldemort's year-long reign of terror. Contrary to the expectations of many, Harry had not savoured the freedom that came with the Death of his nemesis. He did not pursue any the charms of any of the women that tried to woo him. He did not bask in the glory of all that he had 'achieved', for the losses he had suffered far outstripped everything that he could rejoice about. He had done many important things, but he had done nothing of what was expected he would do.

 **Flashback:**

Harry had first of all settled all his dealings with the Goblins. They were the ones who could have caused the most problems. The plan to steal the cup from the Lestrange Vault was doomed right from the outset. The three had violated every treaty and rule of dealing with the Goblins. When Harry had gone to Gringotts to settle the matters, he had been brought before the High King, Director Ragnok. He had been sentenced to death, without trial. What had saved him was his last wish. He had only asked to tell them the truth about the Cup and all the other things that had occurred. This had revealed Griphook's duplicity. It had infuriated the High King. He had brought forth the traitor and forced the story from him.

In the end, it had been ruled that Harry had worked to save Magical Britain, and that the Lestrange family was in fault for keeping such a dark artefact within Gringotts. While the actions were certainly not appreciated, they had been deemed necessary. Had the three humans been caught, the war would have been lost forever. It would have destroyed Gringotts too. In that way, Harry was deemed to have helped Gringotts also. Griphook, on the other hand, had been deemed a traitor. He had placed his greed above the honour and honesty expected of him. He had betrayed Gringotts by extension due to his actions. The executioner's blade had therefore changed its victim and Griphook had become a name to hate in the annals of Goblin history.

There was still the matter of the compensation for their actions, however. It turned out that Aberforth, who had died three weeks after the battle, had split the Dumbledore monies equally between Harry and Neville. The Goblins had swiftly distributed the bequests, and Harry's half also satisfied them. In that moment, Harry had also showed the rare spark of intelligence that he always suppressed for reasons unknown to himself. He had made a deal with the Goblins that gave away the Lestrange wealth – barring any artefacts not containing dark magic and also any family Heirlooms – in exchange for them killing all the remaining Lestranges covertly. With the sizable income up for grabs, Rabastan, Rudolphus and Demetrius the last three Lestranges, found bullets riddling their brains and hearts. It had quickly reduced one of the Ministry's biggest headaches.

The next order of business had been attending every one of the sixty-two men and women who had died defending Hogwarts. It had been heart-wrenching for Harry, but it had also hardened him. He was no longer Potter enough now. He was just as much Black. He had been extremely stoic while offering his condolences to the families of all those who had died. He had accepted their thanks and he had borne the stares and let the accusatory glances and words from several of those distraught by their losses wash of him. He had lost all visible emotion from his face. He had not cried when he had lost all his family – no, nearly all his family. He would not let others' grief affect him. He had been just as blank as they come, and Justin Finch-Fletchley, who had become a friendly face, had called him 'Spock'. He had been one of the few who had stood by Harry in the days after when he needed a friendly person to share those tired glances with, in the absence of his usual close group.

He had employed Gringotts (again) for the job of searching for Hermione's parents, and had covertly extracted every detail from the witch who **_consoled_** the 'love of her life' after he lost one family member, and seemed to have forgotten about her parents. Just as difficult for Harry to digest was the fact that she seemed to have forgotten about their godson. It was a curious thing that had happened. Perhaps due to the experiences, or perhaps it was just to be, but Harry, and Ron and Hermione had somehow drifted apart. It had taken only one week at the Burrow for Harry to know that he was not wanted, not needed by these people, who probably blamed him for the death of Fred Weasley. Nobody, he also realised, had paid much heed when he had silently decamped to Grimmauld Place to stew in his sorrow alone, once again.

Hermione had come around to hug the stuffing out of Harry only when her parents had returned the following week. The awkwardness that prevailed during the meeting told both the friends that they were probably not as close as they thought themselves to be, and also that there was a rift, a chasm that would probably never be healed. It became all the more awkward, when the Grangers, miffed with their daughter's behaviour and her ignoring and forgetting them initially, as well as clear disapproval of Ronald Weasley, decided to live with Harry when they found out that their House had been destroyed. Things became so difficult that they had found it nearly impossible to reconcile with their daughter, who was now rebelling against her parents by steadfastly standing by Ronald. Harry had not intervened, and that course of action had only widened the differences between the three friends. True, Hermione still turned to Harry first when Ron and she had yet another fight. These fights were repetitive, and irritating. Harry listened to her patiently and offered support if he felt that she needed it. He also tried to mend the Granger family by directing her to them. But for the most part, Harry realised that she had made her bed. It was up to her to either lie in it or to remake it. Personally he knew that she had to take the latter option.

Neville, one of those that Harry trusted greatly, had not come out of the battle unscathed. The torture by Voldemort through the burning hat, had taken its toll on him, and though he was sane, it would take him more than a year to completely recover from his injuries. He had fought on and killed Nagini as well as two Death Eaters on a burst of pure adrenaline.

Luna had closeted herself with her father within the Rookery. Harry burned with anger at the thought of whatever she might have undergone, but he never found out what had happened to her then. He had tried time and again to reach her, to no avail. When he did find out about her fate and the reason around mid-August, it had served to create a Monster of Sorts. She had been brutally violated by the DEs. Though the Malfoys did not actually participate in the act, they goaded their friends nonetheless. Luna had sent a note to the only person who had attempted to get in touch with her. It turned out to be her suicide note.

Ginny his ex-girlfriend had proved to be no more than a nuisance when Harry had found that keeping himself busy was an excellent way to keep away the grief which gnawed away at his heart. She constantly whined about the fact that he did not pay enough attention to her starting two weeks after the battle. It had made Harry very wary of even thinking of getting back with her, and he had pushed that off again and again. She also complained about not being the most important person in his life at that point of time.

It was in this situation, that people like Justin, Susan Bones, Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott Jr., Angelina Johnson, Oliver Wood and the Patil Twins had stepped in. Barring Daphne and Nott, and Oliver Wood, the rest had all been in the DA, and were familiar with Harry. But the Slytherin girl had wormed her way into Harry's circle of friends of her own accord. True, she had a motive, and that was to save her sister from the clutches of Draco Malfoy, but she had stated this fact very early. The Patil twins had nearly lost their family, and their business. Harry had used the Black family fortune to revive it. What had started off as a business relationship, had instead, slowly started becoming a very firm friendship. Justin had become a friend while the two worked together in the rehabilitation, repair and reconstruction of Hogwarts. Susan Bones was another matter altogether. She was Justin's girlfriend and had become a friend by association. She was Amelia Bones' niece. It was from her that he learnt that Amelia and Sirius were to be married. All along, she had practically been family, but neither had known about it. Theodore Nott was the real surprise. He had fought against the Death Eaters in the battle, and had a fake eye to show for it. He had once been a person cast in the same mould as Draco, but over time, he had taken a position against Voldemort. It also was influenced by the fact that Theodore would be discriminated against by Voldemort's regime – he was differently oriented. Theodore had been secretly in love with Jeremy Michel, a sixth-year Hufflepuff muggleborn, who had been kidnapped and killed by the DEs. It had fuelled Theodore's anger against the DEs. He had become a Mad-Eye Moody of sorts. He hit the Hit-Wizard training with a vengeance and had pledged a personal war against the remaining DEs and sympathisers.

Oliver Wood had started off by badgering Harry to join his team, the Puddlemere United. His seeker had been murdered, and he did not want any other person apart from his best seeker. It had led to an ongoing banter between the two, something that had lightened Harry's mood immensely. Angelina Johnson, another team-mate had also been roped in to convince Harry. While she was not part of the Puddlemere United set-up, she had taken it upon herself to get both George Weasley and Harry out of their respective funks.

Life had changed irrevocably for Harry, and he was finding it very challenging to keep up. But there was one person who would be the light at the end of the tunnel – and most certainly not an oncoming train – for him.

 **Flashback Ends.**

The one thing that Harry wanted most, however, was to meet his newest and littlest family member, Teddy. And that was where all the problems centred. Like a man obsessed, he kept attempting to meet his godson. He had sent letters to Andromeda, but they had been returned. He had tried visiting her home, but had been repelled by the wards. He had finally taken to camping outside the place, when Andromeda had relented.

It had been glaringly obvious that she blamed him for the deaths of Tonks and Moony. But Harry was nothing if not determined in the matter. He kept at it. He reinstated Andromeda, who'd accused him of trying to bribe her. He let her say what she wanted to. He kept on with his plan of getting to know his godson. For several hours a day, he played with Teddy, learnt to change him under Andromeda's grudging guidance, started to take care of him, babysat him and on the whole, learnt the ropes of fatherhood.

Andromeda too, had started letting her resistance drop. The last of the Black Daughters became a mother/aunt/teacher of sorts to Harry – he was expected to impart discipline and knowledge to his godson, after all. She had given him a crash course in deportment. She had also taught him the ways of family magics. Harry on his part had wholeheartedly shown her everything that he had. Teddy was now his son, and he wanted to reassure his grandmother.

It was during one of these discussions that Andromeda finally revealed why she had set her anger at Harry aside. She had cancer. The disease, unbelievably uncommon among magicals had gone undetected so long, that it had reached a near terminal stage. It was also then, that her dormant morphing capabilities made up for the unusual changes in her appearance that would have probably alerted someone.

Andromeda was dying. And she knew better than to not plan for her grandson. That was also what her letter was about. Narcissa, who had wormed her way out of her trial along with her son, by pushing the blame onto Lucius (who'd been then kissed), had been visiting. Andromeda could see the glint in her eye each time she looked at Teddy. It held curiosity, which masked the malice and greed. Andromeda hated and distrusted her sister. She had therefore written to Harry to formally adopt Teddy. She did not want her grandson with those despicable excuses for human beings; with people who pillaged, murdered and got themselves branded after bowing to another. And however much she disapproved of Dora's choice of husband and also the godfather to her grandson, Harry was certainly a better option than Narcissa and her family. She had been forthright about that, and Harry appreciated her honesty. That was a courtesy few had accorded to him.

It also included the solution that would keep away those vultures. Casting the mother and son from the Black family and calling sanctions on them for DE activities as well as calling all debts and the dowry would make the Malfoys Knut-less. That would be enough to protect Teddy in the interim. The letter also stated that he would have to protect Teddy from the Ministry. Harry could not make much from that, but in spite of the change in the Ministry reign, he had no reason to trust them, so he happily complied.

 **31** **st** **October 1998**

Ginny Weasley was not a happy girl. The war had ended. Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived had become the man-who-won, after the defeat of Tom Riddle. She was now painting mental pictures of her wedding with Harry Potter. For years she had feared that the bookworm would be the biggest worm in her apple, but she had gotten together with her prat of a brother. How and why, she really did not want to know. She had hoped, oh! She had hoped that Harry would now pay attention to her exclusively. But the person who emerged from the war was no longer the person who had been her boyfriend briefly a year ago. It was something that even she could see. He had a shadow in his eyes, contempt for the world, an insane amount of paranoia, and every action of his showed that he was in pain. But there was something else. There was a slight madness in his eyes that she could not place, at first. He held several scars, mental and physical, and he would not let anyone close enough to help him heal.

True, the first week after the battle, most people had drowned in their respective sorrow and ignored him. She felt rather guilty about it, now that she thought about it. But Fred's death was her first brush with the mortality of a family member. Remus was not even real family for Harry. And that was where she had been wrong. She should have realised, she groused, that Harry would cling to whatever semblance of family he had. Since the last of that had been torn from him he would be inconsolable. But then she found out that there was one more person who unwittingly stood between her and her craving for the idea of being the one Harry loved solely. That they had all left him alone to stew, almost out of habit, because 'Harry always bounces back', escaped her mind completely. Within the first three weeks itself, Harry had shown that this new person meant more to him than she ever would.

It made Ginny feel like a monster. She was jealous of a barely three month old baby. But that had been the level of Harry's determination to go after his godson. He had literally stalked Andromeda Tonks when she attempted to close him off from little Teddy. He had hounded her every step. She knew for a fact that he had camped outside the Tonks' home because she had helped him find the tent to do so.

But it wasn't merely the need that Harry showed to see his godson that irked her. No. Once upon a time, she felt jealous of Hermione Granger because she could see how his face used to light up at just the mention of her name. Somehow, things had turned out to be very different. And Harry had lost the sense of happiness, particularly after the death of his godfather and Hermione's injury. But now, it was again not her, but the little baby that brought a similar yet different expression of pure joy and happiness on his face. It was the happiness that she had never seen when he was with her. That fact made her feel terribly envious of the baby.

It also explained a lot. All those inexplicably dark emotions that she could see in his eyes died away. She had also finally placed the reasons for the changes. It was the year after her third when she had first met Sirius Black. The man had terrified her. He looked gaunt and emaciated, his eyes carried the hurt, pain and guilt that only several years of Azkaban could have caused, and he seemed to border on insanity that he had once joked was a Black family trait, at the best of times. And yet, whenever Harry, his safety and his escapades at Hogwarts were mentioned around him, the man's whole demeanour seemed to change. He then became the man who felt happy in the darkness that surrounded them, simply because his godson was safe and alive at the moment. He seemed to lose the manic gleam that his cold grey-blue eyes held. And it was the same with Harry. Little Teddy had become his world now. And it hurt.

She had tried to be happy for the two. She really had. But she felt that she had a limit that had been crossed. She had often wondered why Remus and Tonks had given that responsibility to Harry. She did not even know who the godmother was. It would have been easy to foist the responsibility on her. She did not want that responsibility, for she rightly thought herself to be too young. Unfortunately, she thought the same about Harry too, and she couldn't be farther from the truth. All she wanted was for Harry to revel in the glory of his momentous victory for a while, to accept his fame and the adulation he was bound to receive. She saw Teddy as an impediment in her plans for Harry.

She never realised that others' plans for Harry were the same sort of prison that Number 12 Grimmauld Place had been for Sirius.

In such a situation, along came Draco Malfoy. It was late that September, when Malfoy had shamelessly returned to the school he had helped destroy. How he had ever come to talk to her she never knew, but he had. And that one conversation had struck her a blow she never recovered from.

 **FLASHBACK:**

"Weaslette," called the hated voice.

"Get stuffed Malfoy," Ginny gritted her teeth.

"Well, well, well, very angry aren't we? The little redhead is angry because boy wonder is paying more attention to the little brat of the beast and my cousin? Hmm. Not that I don't sympathise. Nobody ever thought that Cousin Nymphadora was into bestiality." Malfoy had clearly not lost his irritation causing qualities. Ginny did not bother to answer, however much she wanted to.

"You are then!" Malfoy continued lightly, as he went away.

 **FLASHBACK ENDS.**

That had set the pattern. Every two or three days, the blonde haired boy would turn up and eventually he placed the idea of getting Teddy to the Department of Mysteries in her head. Somehow, Draco's suggestions had taken her mind by fire. What if Teddy bit Harry when he started teething? Would he make Harry a werewolf? What if Teddy became a werewolf later in life? Would he affect their children? She had not thought about those matters till then, but now she saw Teddy as a danger to Harry. She had also decided against mentioning this to Hermione. She did not want the bookworm meddling.

She had only once tried to talk to Harry about the matter. The resulting response had shocked her. Harry had only looked at her and not said a word, but that look alone told everything that needed to be told. She had never seen Harry look at anyone bar Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange with that much hatred. She had for a moment felt that Harry would kill her, and when he had stood up abruptly, she thought that she was done for. He had not done anything of that sort, but the threat had been clear. She had known in that moment, that Harry would do for Teddy whatever it took to keep him safe. He would do anything, just as Sirius would have done for him. For the first time in all the time that she knew him, Harry Potter had scared her.

Yet on that Halloween Day, Ginny, Ron (only for support) and an Unspeakable and an Auror were heading to Number 12 Grimmauld Place to take Edward Remus Lupin-Black-Potter into custody (they were of course ignorant about the last two names – Harry did not trust Ginny much after her suggestion – just as they did not know that a lot had changed with Harry also). Harry had made the colossal mistake of keying the two into the wards and also bringing down the Fidelius Charm. That meant that they could bring another person with them. And they betrayed Harry spectacularly.

Harry was playing with Teddy when they entered. Instantly, Kreacher was at hand. The wizened old elf, on being told that the new heir had the gift of the House of Black had gone as close to ecstasy as was possible for him. A side of Kreacher – a caring and loving nanny – had been unveiled. What he had now sensed was a threat to the heir. His Master, The Black, had clearly sensed it too, for he had now pointed his new wand at the new entrants.

"What is the meaning of this?" Harry asked, his syllables trembling in rage.

"Harry, listen here now, you must know that Teddy has to be studied, don't you? You wouldn't want him to hurt our children, don't you?" Ginny started. In the periphery he could see the Auror and Unspeakable inching towards him.

"Kreacher, take Teddy, and leave." Kreacher hastened to comply, when he was struck down by a curse by the Unspeakable who dived towards the baby. And in that moment, the Master of Death, the defeater of Voldemort made his appearance. In a fluid motion he blasted the diving man with an overpowered stunner and a kick to the neck. In the following instant, the remaining three were disarmed. For good measure, he also stunned and bound them.

The Auror, he knew, was probably only following orders. He had nothing against the poor bloke. He revived him first. One of the perks of being the Master of Death as well as the last living Peverell was the fact that the wand could now only work for him. The other advantage was that his spells, and those of his children, would be undetectable and untraceable using that wand. "Who sent you here?" Harry's voice was menacing, and in that moment, the Auror feared him just as much as anyone of Voldemort's remaining supporters. That the Elder Wand (not that the Auror knew it) was alight with a deathly green light did not help matters.

"I was un-under or-orders..." he stammered out. "These two came to the Ministry and sought the Unspeakables. I was ordered to come here, sir." Harry had suspected that. But he could not keep things to chance. "Legillimens!" he cast. Carefully, he removed all memories of the entire saga. He had had to learn memory magic to bring back Hermione's parents after all.

He moved on next to Ron and Ginny. He couldn't believe the two. They were once his friends. Then again, he mused, Wormtail was his father's and Sirius' friend too. He went after Ginny too. She had listened to Malfoy, then. A loose end, he decided, that needed to be taken care of. As he delved deeper and deeper into her mind, unravelling the small nuggets, knots and nodes of memories, thoughts and beliefs, he was revolted. Ginny was really nothing more than a spoilt brat. Each thing that she got was a conquest, a prize, that once won would be discarded. It pained him to realise that he, everything he had done, his actions, his name, fame, and most importantly any attention and affection were all one such prize.

If Ginny repulsed him, Ron wasn't too far. While he had not done anything bad to her, Hermione was Ron's prize. And why was that so? Simply because she cared for Harry and Ron was jealous. In that moment, Harry's decision was made. He hid every memory of any interaction between the two Weasleys and him in a safe secreted away into their minds with a Parseltongue password (Harry had not lost that ability), placing only a sense of vague acquaintance, while at the same time aggravating Ron's discomfort with Hermione, along with a suggestion to leave the book, "Twelve Ways to Woo you Witch" where she could see them. Cruel though it would be, Harry was doing her a favour. It would be her choice thereafter. Then again, knowing her as he did now, she could defend Ron by claiming that it was his "cute, fumbling attempt to gain her affections".

That by itself would not have worked. But while it was not perfect, a similar modification to the Unspeakable's memory would provide an excellent alibi. He would have the memory of having obliviated the three. And funnily enough, the undetectable and untraceable nature of magic was something only the Unspeakables had managed.

The acts done, he turned to Kreacher. He had learnt what the Unspeakable had done to him. By forcibly simulating a betrayal and freedom, the Unspeakable had killed Kreacher. Even in his last moment though, the elf had protected the child. Harry knew what he had to do. He gave Kreacher the same sort of burial he had given Dobby. He set up a new Fidelius on the House, secreting the knowledge within himself, before vanishing with Teddy to Gringotts. Making arrangements for Winky to take care of Teddy after bonding with her, he broke through the Malfoy wards. And that meant that he completely shredded every trace of protective magic on the house, obviously alerting its currently absent occupants.

Making himself comfortable in the sitting room after disabling all the elves, Harry sat down right in throne like chair where Voldemort once sat, awaiting the harried return of Narcissa and Draco.

"Ah, **_disowned and disinherited_** cousins," he said with a bland voice, not letting his hatred show. "How nice of you, it is, to join me."

"What are you doing here, you filthy half-breed?" spat Draco. He had realised that Harry had found him out.

"Why, am I not allowed to exchange pleasantries?"

"What do you want Potter?" Narcissa asked in a guarded manner. She certainly seemed to be the woman in control of herself.

"You make a mistake their Lady Malfoy. I am Lord Potter-Black." The grimace on her face had barely passed when she found herself disarmed, petrified and bound. "You made a grave mistake, Malfoy," Harry said, twirling his wand between his fingers with a curious expression. "You should not have tried to hurt the Heir and Future Lord Black. I made a mistake too. I did not realise that you were the dog-in-the-manger. I should've. Never mind, then. I have come here to tie up the loose ends. Funny and ironic, is it not? My godfather died at the hands of your insane sister, while he strove to protect me from your lot, and now I will protect my godson, while still the darling of the Wizarding world, having eliminated all the Lestranges, having got Lucius kissed, by exterminating the last of his enemies, cousins?

"It was very creative of you, Draco. Goading the Weaslette into doing the dirty work for you – we could have made a Slytherin of you, after all. Alas! You will not find the opportunity. Goodbye, Malfoys. Your line ends here."

He hated every moment of what he was doing, but he had a godson to protect. He stunned the mother and son, and left them in a secluded alley with bullets in their heads. From there he went about removing his last vestige of familiarity. Like their two youngest, the rest of the Weasley family also forgot all about Harry.

He then proceeded to upgrade the Lupin account, meagre as it was, into a trust Vault for Teddy, and put in all the Malfoy money into it. The Goblins were very happy to invest it all, with a 10% income promised to them. He took Winky and Teddy back home. He could not now live in Britain anymore.

He wrote letters to each of his friends, except the Weasleys, leaving them all a goodbye gift of sorts each. Hermione got a gift too, but not a letter. That job was her parents'. Just to ensure though, that she wouldn't be totally out of the loop, she received a Patronus message – "Ron and Ginny were the Wormtail for my son and me. No Weasley shall ever remember me now." Making a last tour of all the places in Britain that held a special place in his heart, Harry closed down all the Houses of Potter and Black, leaving the country for greener pastures, where he could protect the little life now cradled in his arms. Harry Potter and his son had escaped the isles of Great Britain.


	2. Observations from the Periphery

**Observations from the Periphery**

This Chapter is Hermione centric. New character introduced.

 **1** **st** **September, 2009**

Newly minted Deputy Headmistress Hermione Granger was readying herself for the start of the new school year. It was an addition to her responsibilities that she had dutifully carried out for the previous seven years.

* * *

She had hoped to have an easy time after the war. That, by her definition, was having a career of her choice, no deadly quests, no scary adventures, and a steady relationship – both with her boyfriend of the time, Ron Weasley, and her parents, and no other responsibilities. While the last part was technically untrue, she was too tired and too worn out to assume any more responsibility. She had also been the godmother to a little tyke, the only son of her friends and ex-Professor, Remus Lupin and Tonks. For a while, everything looked to be going extremely well. Embarrassingly for her, she had for a few weeks forgotten about her parents too, as she **_consoled_** her boyfriend. She had also forgotten the reason why she had gone through the entire ordeal – her other best friend, Harry. Both facts had been brought home to her forcibly, when Harry, busy with dealing all the technical details of the aftermath of the war, had brought them home hale and hearty.

Things had been awkward for a while, before everything went down the drain. She had not even particularly realised it when Harry had left the Burrow and taken up residence in his own home. She had realised that her friendship with Harry had become strained. Her parents were very angry with her for sending them away without taking their choice into consideration. Here, Harry had helped her immensely. He had procured memories from a wide range of people and had forced the two to accept that the danger they would've been in could have been way over their ability to bear. The anger had then changed towards the DEs and all such people.

That was, however, just the first of their confrontations. They had heavily disapproved of her relationship with Ron, and they did not like him either. She had stood singularly with him against them, which had led to shouting matches at Grimmauld Place where they had stayed for the first three weeks, with Harry. She had looked to Harry for support, but Harry had told her upfront that he would not interfere with what was definitely her very personal business. Her parents were his friends, as was she, and whatever they wanted to solve would be between them. Eventually, the tensions between the younger couple and the Granger parents had affected Ron, and he had started fighting with her as he did in school. It affected her even worse. As usually she could do, she had turned to Harry for comfort. He had not disappointed. He had lent her a patient ear, a shoulder to cry on and no judgement whatsoever, while she ranted, raved, sobbed and cried. In that time she had learnt that there were quite a few problems between her prospective sister-in-law and Harry who **_was once_** said prospective sister-in-law's boyfriend. Harry had remained tight-lipped, but it was obvious to her that things had gone beyond reconciliation.

And then it was that terrible Halloween – that terrible Halloween, when she had lost her best friend, her godson, and any respect for Ron and Ginny in one stroke. She did not need Theodore's Owl telling her what had happened, nor did she need her parents' explanation. Prongs' message had been sufficient. She had confronted Ron and Ginny, who simply did not want to be bothered with anything about Harry. He had somehow become just another well-known person. That had been the part that her parents had sufficiently explained. She had found out why no Weasley would ever remember Harry. She shouldn't have been surprised. He did have the antecedents of James and Lily Potter as parents and Sirius Black as godfather. The fierce protectiveness he had shown for Teddy had to come from somewhere. It had also explained the deaths of all the Lestranges and Malfoys by being mugged in alleyways. She had always thought it to be too much of a coincidence, but she had at the time thought that it was a muggleborn out for revenge. It had hurt slightly to find out that it had been Harry who had eliminated any danger to his godson – no, she corrected mentally. He had adopted Teddy legally. He was his son.

Ron and Ginny had been confronted again, and she found out that neither had even the faintest smidgen of shame for the way they acted. Ron had gone on to say that she needn't have cared anyway, as, in his words, "the brat had a famous godfather." Over the next few months, the nature of Ronald Bilious Weasley as – in the simplest terms – a jealous arsehole had been forcibly exposed. More and more, her parents' stand against him and Harry's non-interference, which, she now realised, was tacit support for her parents, seemed sane and sensible. She broke up with Ronald Weasley shortly before the turn of the New Year. It had taken her quite some time to come to terms with the fact that she had now lost both her best friends. Or perhaps, she hadn't. Harry had not forgotten her. Neville – the Head of House Gryffindor and the Herbology Professor – and his wife Hannah, Angelina Weasley and her husband George, Bill, and Fleur became her primary support group. Harry had also communicated indirectly through the new friends he had made after the war. Daphne had initially apprenticed as a Healer, but she couldn't stomach the blood and gore as she tried to rise up the ranks. So she had instead become a Potions Mistress of great repute and succeeded Slughorn upon his retirement. She and Nott, who Hermione once believed to be another of Draco's ilk, as well as Susan and Justin Finch-Fletchley, were there for her too, in Harry's continued absence. They always passed on Harry's gift – which was always sent to Daphne, on Christmas and her birthday.

When her favourite Hogwarts Professor, and now the Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall had come to know about Hermione, she had immediately taken the young witch under her wing. Hermione had apprenticed under her and had become the Transfiguration Mistress. Much like her mentor, she too, had achieved the animagus form of a cat – with a long brown bushy tail. She had even adopted the same mannerisms. Over the years, when Minerva could no longer manage teaching and administration, Hermione had become Professor Granger. In many ways, she had also adopted the near Spartan, ascetic lifestyle of Minerva McGonagall. Thereafter, over the previous seven years, her life had held no excitement, no change and nothing beyond her career as a teacher, her students and Hogwarts. At barely thirty, she had become an old woman. She had her parents, with whom she still spent several evenings a week; her colleagues and friends; but beyond that she was very much a living robot.

* * *

That was not to say that the world around her had not changed. Barely three years after Harry and Teddy had left for places unknown, a new political force identified as just **_Der Gleichrichter_** had risen. Many had been worried that this force, which no one knew anything about, had started sending a representative to the ICW wearing a black cowl and cape, was the rise of yet another Dark Lord. Nobody knew whether this was an organisation or a single person. Nobody knew anything about the Hierarchy.

Instead, this new force had turned out to be a powerful instrument of change. The start in the year 2001 – specifically, Halloween 2001 – had been with the release of several documents pertaining to several magical governments across the world. It implicated several corrupt people who sat at important positions in the governments, listing their mal-activities. The in-depth nature of the documents had been such, that the corruption had been traced right down to the grassroots. While there had been whispers of blackmail if action was not taken, there was no way to investigate the origins, since nobody knew how to. It had toppled the Pakistani Magical Government totally, sending the nation into an odd sort of anarchy. Several bigwigs in three European Countries had been taken down efficiently. With these objectives achieved, the organisation had lain quiet for the next six months. This was particularly interesting because Wikileaks had done pretty much the same job 2006 onwards in the muggle world. Hermione was pretty sure that some sort of magic had gone into the making of Wikileaks.

Six months later, the representative had turned up for the ICW meet, and presented a paper and theory regarding muggleborn. It stated that parents of muggleborn magicals were actually the descendents of squibs. When two families joined in alliance, the child became either a magical or a carrier. If two such carriers married, the paper showed, the children born of such a marriage were magically inclined with a probability of roughly 85%. It had created a massive argument in the chamber, till the representative brought out statistical data collected from the Goblins – the only race with legal dispensation in all countries to perform blood magic, with permission from the test subjects. The representative had then gone on to challenge the ICW to form a team of Unspeakables or those with similar official jobs from across countries to prove them wrong. The team constituted by the ICW had been unable to disprove the claims made by Der Gleichrichter. That had helped push through a code of law through a meet three months later which made discrimination a major criminal offence. All countries had had to accept that. Some did so grudgingly, but pressure from the international magical community through trade cuts and the like meant that the law was passed in all countries over the next two years. Interestingly, it was Britain that resisted the most, and was brought in last.

In the intervening period of calm – the six months after their first release – the magical world had attempted to find the origin of Der Gleichrichter. It meant in German 'The Rectifier'. It had led people to believe that it was an underground organisation from the country. Extensive, assiduously conducted searches revealed nothing whatsoever. The two years after the Adoption of the Code saw a resumption of the attempts to find out who or what Der Gleichrichter was, again to no avail.

Fifteen months after the Code had been adopted by the ICW, Britain still resisted, demanding a team of solely British officials to 'investigate' the matter. This had played right into the hands of Der Gleichrichter. Citing the crimes against humanity perpetuated in Britain by Voldemort and his supporters, the archaic and unfair laws that allowed such atrocities to take place and the continued resistance to change by the British Magical society, Der Gleichrichter lobbied for intervention by the International Community, a la NATO. Amusingly, it was approved. That alone had proven that Der Gleichrichter was just too powerful to oppose. They had managed a legally, internationally ratified coup of Britain. Kingsley, tied down by all sorts of laws, was given the option of coming on board with the International Magical Intervention Force (IMIF) and help change the face of Britain. This time DG, working as a silent overseer, had supervised several trials, unearthed all sorts of facts, shaken the skeletons out of the cupboards of many and generally had remained behind the scenes as magical Britain was, for all practical purposes, blasted into the early 20th century. The operation would always be referred to as 'The Cleaning.' Several bonds were enforced to ensure that the children of purists were isolated from those theories, even as said purists were forced out of power. Rather than going all-out for physical executions, as the muggle governments were working towards in their 'War against Terror', the indoctrinated were subjected to Death of Personality, to ensure that they were reworked into productive, constructively contributing members of society, even as they kept memories of their past actions. Memory Spells and Mind-Healers together worked just too well.

What followed had been an age that was called the Renaissance. The Wizengamot was dissolved. It was obvious that Der Gleichrichter was intimate with Britain. The representative – a woman, this time, a fact which people knew only from her voice – and a team she had chosen (and ruthlessly controlled) had modelled the government processes after an odd mix and modification of the American and British systems. The departmental Heads were not shifted, but they were now adjunct to Secretaries of the Department. The Secretaries were elected along with the Minister. The Secretaries acted as liaisons between the elected body and the bureaucracy, for the Heads of Departments were exactly representatives of that. The Minister of Magic had to declare the Secretarial component during elections. The process of Democracy chiefly worked on the basis of constituencies. There were forty in all, spread across the isles, set on the House of Commons. People could only have two terms in office. Just to ensure that the old brigade was not alienated, the old Wizengamot was placed as something similar to the House of Lords.

That wasn't where DG ended their work. They then focussed on revamping Hogwarts. All students and parents had to sign a bond that forced them, quite literally, to stay away from any sort of bigotry. The age at which muggleborn – or as DG called them – newblood children were informed of their magical capabilities was made variable. First contact occurred as soon as the child had a bout of accidental magic. This was then followed by an extensive round of introduction, counselling and lineage-determination sessions. This helped those that were afraid of their children accept the facts regarding the magical capabilities. A mix of normal muggle and very introductory-level magical education was now imparted at schools set-up by the Ministry, again with the advice of DG. Even Hogwarts now had classes regarding what constituted muggle education. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes were now compulsory subjects, while Divination had been completely scrapped. But more than that, the Child Wizarding Services now had interests in the home-lives of the students, and stepped in when it was felt that the environment was abusive and/or detrimental to the student in anyway. It was obvious that these steps were useful, as evidenced by the results of the newly instituted Programme, started in the name of Albus Dumbledore. In fact, just three years previously, a newblood had been sorted into Slytherin for the first time in five-hundred and sixty seven years. Each year DG sponsored three werewolves for education at Hogwarts. These students had dispensation to leave the castle for pre-decided rendezvous points on full moons. All parents had bi-weekly interactions with their children. Even muggles could now see the school which their children attended. Of course, this was not extended to all muggles, only those that knew about magic. And that was also the correct thing to do. A thousand year-old castle materialising into existence all of a sudden would have always been very odd.

There were also several structural changes. The castle was heavily modernised, new wards were instituted for the protection of its residents, the staircases were rebuilt to ensure efficient traversing of the castle, the forest was cleared of any dangers, new equipment was brought in wherever required and furthermore, a dedicated security team had been employed. To add to that a Teacher's review was instituted to weed out cases like Snape. On their side the man might have been, but he was still a black-hearted bastard.

It was all a far cry from the Hogwarts that Hermione had attended. Hermione – no, Lady Dagworth-Granger, as she was now known – often wondered what wonders these measures would have been available then. Much of the War could and would have been avoided. Much of what Ron had behaved with her would have been constituted as bullying, she had long since realised. There were no longer any cases like those, nor were there cases like Luna Lovegood, or Draco Malfoy. It was a school. But it was now really the best and most complete school for magicals – as it had claimed to be, for long, without much basis in fact.

Most importantly, had all those processes been in place, Harry, her only best friend, whether or not he considered her to be one anymore, would have still been with her.

Hermione sighed and shook off the cobwebs of stray thought. There was still work to do.

* * *

X

* * *

The DADA post was had been vacant for the first time in seven years. A person – for nobody knew this person's name, had applied. The letter contained several references, and Hermione had also gone through the job interview along with Minerva. This new Professor intended to teach practical defence, including Occlumency. The Professor – or X, as he preferred being referred to as – had taken the entire syllabus, and rehashed it, keeping in mind the necessities of students – particularly those in the fourth year and above. The younger ones could be taught from the start. The syllabus had got a certification of approval from the ICW.

X was intriguing. Nobody knew anything apart from the fact that all the references that the application had cited had heavily recommended the person heavily. Nobody had ever seen X's face. It had raised Hermione's well-honed gut feeling. She had designed wards to ensure that any sort of impersonation would cause a violent reaction – except if the person was a metamorphmagus. She still remembered with terror the impersonator who had facilitated the start of the Wizarding War. She would be damned if she let such a thing happen again on her watch. It was after all a very important year for Hermione, was 2009.

* * *

X

* * *

If Oliver Wood had to comment on the situation in his inimitable style, he would have said, "This is it. The big year. The one we have been waiting for." And the 2009-10 academic year was truly important for Hermione. Why?

2009 was a truly important year for Hermione. This was the year when she had been promoted to the Deputy-Headmistress position. Her friend Neville was now the Head of Gryffindor. They had both been offered each position, with the rider that the two positions would be mutually exclusive. Neville had not even expended a moment's thought before choosing the Head of House position. He had candidly admitted that he did not care for paperwork, and had then innocently pointed out to Hermione that she would get to do lots of homework, again. The portraits still chortled when they saw the two well-liked teachers as they remembered the Deputy Headmistress chasing the Head of Gryffindor, occasionally landing a stinging hex.

2009 was an important year for Hermione, because her parents were now able to stay with her at Hogwarts in the rooms adjacent to her chambers. The health of her father had been a big issue in recent times, and now she had the means to take care of them. Things were not hunky-dory between them, as they kept asking when she would get married, almost every single day. Yet, they were her parents. They were all that she had left that she could call her own. They were just hers.

And 2009 was a very, very important year for Hermione, because His Grace, Edward Remus Lupin-Potter, Lord of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, and son of Hadrian James Potter-Black, Lord of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter and Lord-Emeritus Black, was returning to the English shores to attend the Alma Mater of his parents and godparents. It had been the one letter of response she had hoped to see, and had searched for it assiduously. The precisely and politely worded five-line letter was always in her paper folder. That one thing had been driving her since the 10th of April. She had very few memories of the child. But she knew that this child was the key to knowing more about the person who loved him more than any living person.

She remembered being that jittery on 1st September only once before – and that was eighteen years ago.

* * *

X

* * *

X turned up with the boats and the students and Hagrid. Hermione had not seen the gentle behemoth in such a good mood since the war. It was clear that X, and the boy who was most certainly Teddy (the unmistakable face of Remus Lupin, framing the same green eyes of her best friend complete with violently vitriolic blue hair set in the manner of Sirius – who else but the son of Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin could have carried that off?) had managed to get through to her biggest friend, who had over the years become very reclusive. She had, in fact, heard Hagrid laugh whole-heartedly after a span of several months. X had said something to Hagrid that had tickled his fancy. Hermione nearly entertained the idea that X might even be Harry – until Teddy snatched the cloak-with-cowl ensemble that X wore, leaving it limp in his hands and nothing in the space where X stood beside Hagrid. Hermione could only shake her head. Somehow, in spite of never being in love with Harry while he was around, it was him that Hermione had never been able to forget, and never been able to move on from.

* * *

X

* * *

"Lupin-Potter-Black, Edward Remus," Hermione saw the name on the list. Somehow, she felt extremely jittery – again, just as much as she had felt that wet evening back in 1991. It was obvious that Harry had raised Teddy. What sort of a person would he be? It was easier back in her time ("Merlin! I am getting old! Back in my time?" she groused) it was very easy. If you were sorted into Slytherin, there was a higher probability of finding the love-child of a merman and a Veela. Well, not to that extent, after all she knew at least three decent Slytherins. But it was a fair bet. The DG Intervention now meant that it was actually the traits and not your family history that served as the decider in the sorting. So what would Teddy be? Would he revel in the accumulation of knowledge? Would he find happiness in upholding the traditions of his father and his friends, creating trouble? Or would he uphold the traditions of his adoptive father and his friends, running into trouble? Would he be like Dora, the consummate Hufflepuff, happy with her work and loyal to the cause to the bitter end? Or would he be Lord Black, cunning, ambitious and conniving?

Whatever misgivings she might have had about Harry getting the Lestranges and the Malfoys bumped off, Hermione still could not deny that she was looking at a very happy child. He was physically certainly healthy, unlike the child Harry had been. He was also showing excitement at the prospect of being at Hogwarts. It was obvious that he was not isolated, for he was easily communicating with the other students. All in all, this pointed to a happy childhood – provided harry hadn't spoiled him rotten.

And then her long-held morals came to the fore. Harry had killed to protect him. Had he passed the trait to Teddy? Or had he protected him from the darker aspects of the world? Had he told the boy what he had done? Had Teddy accepted Harry in spite of it all, warts, murders and all? Would they go back to the way the Black family was – dark and power-hungry? Had Teddy been taught to be ruthless? Had he been given leeway to mete out what would be his version of justice, for what he perceived as crimes? That was a worse state than being spoilt rotten. True, Teddy could not hurt anyone – the DG solution had ensured that. But there were ways of revenge that did not have anything to do with physical hurt, handled between parents. Would Harry take matters in hand once again?

Then one more thought struck her. What of Teddy's protection? The Unspeakables had been ruthlessly crushed after the Renaissance. And one of the symptoms of the problems with the British Magical Society was Teddy – people seemed willing enough to allow human testing without any theoretical basis. Were it Fenrir Greyback, it would not have mattered. But on a barely seven month old babe, it was heinous. Would Teddy know this grim fact? Would the Unspeakables act against Teddy now that he was in Britain? Would Teddy hold a grudge against Britain for that?

Hermione was struck by fear, something she hadn't felt when she first held the letter of acceptance. Hermione was afraid of Harry and what he might have done. And Hermione was afraid of what Teddy might be. But mostly, she was afraid for him. Hermione was essentially afraid that Teddy would be the younger version of Draco Malfoy. "When my father hears about this..." she could almost hear the words as if they were spoken by the boy himself, standing right beside her.

It was time, she decided, to find out the answers to all her fears, doubts and questions. For if there was one thing Hermione was good at, it was finding answers.

"Lupin-Potter, Black, Edward Remus," she called.


	3. Teddy's Sorting

**Teddy's Sorting**

 _"_ _Lupin-Potter, Black, Edward Remus," she called._

She observed every expression, every hint of motion that her godson, estranged for so long showed. The excitement that shone through his eyes did not leave, but his expression changed to a blank mask. Teddy squared his shoulders and took calm measured steps, all with the grace of an apex predator, so unlike Dora, towards the dais. He wasn't walking slowly nor was he too fast. It was the natural gait of a person who was comfortable in his own skin and confident in himself. He nodded slightly to the Head Table, allowing a slight smile to both Daphne and Neville, Hermione observed, before nodding at her respectfully and sitting on the stool. On any other person, it might have seemed arrogant, or ostentatious – like a little Percy. But Edward (Teddy no longer seemed suitable) carried it off with nonchalant ease.

The Hat sat snug on Edward's head... and gasped. Hermione was near enough to hear, if a little indistinctly, what the Hat had to say, had it decided to speak aloud.

"Difficult, very difficult," the Hat said. "Expected that, I should have, considering who has raised you. So much alike, yet so different, you are."

"Mr. Hat? Watched the Star Wars, have you?"

"Ah, a live one!" the Hat exclaimed. "I remember your mother – quite a cheeky girl, she was. I see you have spoken to her."

"Yes." It was a succinct reply.

"And you are not worried about whom I shall tell that?"

"Paw told me that you were trusted by far greater wizards than us common folk that inhabit the earth today. He told me that they trusted you to take the correct decision, and that I should be open and truthful with you, instead of hiding what I know, think and feel."

"A none-too-subtle way of letting me know that you have recognisable shields, while also not letting me test their strengths," replied the Hat. "I am impressed."

"Thank you, Mr. Hat," Edward responded politely.

"Tell me, Edward, do you take the word of your father as the gospel of truth?"

"My father loves me, Mr. Hat. That is a statement he has made nearly every day that I remember. I take it for the gospel of truth."

"That was not what I asked..."

"I know. As for other matters, my father has taught me to take nobody's words at face value. He trained me in that early. As he is the son of James Potter, and godson and nephew to Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, you can surely understand the ways he taught me to verify everything and to take even the truth with a pinch of salt."

"What I can see is that your head is teeming with the possibilities of resuming the work of your noble ancestors."

Teddy gave a subdued mental chuckle. "That is the one expectation that my father has of me. To enjoy and learn – both for his part and mine."

The Hat frowned – as well as it could, anyway. It was supposed to be sorting the boy – not get involved in a circular conversation with him. The boy had spoken with loving respect about his father. Perhaps that was the way to know what to do.

"Are you loyal to your father?"

"Undoubtedly, yes."

"But if your father is in the wrong?"

"Loyalty and blind loyalty are two very different things. My father knows enough to not take the wrong step as far as he can. But if I believe he is wrong, he expects me to prove it to him. Loyalty is being able to go against the person you are loyal to, on occasion, if only to ensure that the person doesn't stray from what is right."

"So you would go against him?"

"It is not a question of going against him. It is about understanding all parts of the story. It is about understanding every intricacy of the matter. It doesn't do well to jump to conclusions without all the observations and theory in place. Once that is done, if my stand is diametrically opposite his, then so be it. It will only mean that I have understood things differently as compared to him. He could be wrong. I could be wrong as well."

"And if in spite of all that, you are still unable to come to a consensus about something?"

"Then we won't. It doesn't make me his son and him my father any lesser. We cannot be expected to always agree. My father and I are two different individuals. We can agree on many things and not all. That is human nature, isn't it? Were it not so, I would've been his clone."

"And if you had to lie?"

"Never!" responded Teddy, vehemently. "You know quite well that words have power. A lie, even a white lie, doesn't help matters."

"And you would follow that course, were it so, that, there would be no other recourse?"

"Then I would do what my father taught me. If the ends were worth it, and if nobody got hurt in the bargain, I would still not lie. I would imply."

"Where would you like to be?" the Hat asked after a lengthy chuckle.

"Let me see. As the son of Harry Potter, I have already had too much attention thrust at me. Ending up in Gryffindor would mean having to pander to expectations of being in the same mould as my father. Not Slytherin, because as much of a change DG might have made, there is still a stigma attached to it, even though it may subconscious. Again it will draw attention. My mum was a Hufflepuff. More seemingly simple, hard-working, slip-under-the-radar, benignly malignant – if they so choose, non-confrontational and loyal creatures you wouldn't find. A Hufflepuff would also do anything for what he believes to be right. And I could still excel in academics, so I wouldn't need Ravenclaw."

"So be it," said the Hat, "but like your father, I think you'd do well in Slytherin. I just need to test." Then it spoke aloud, "I can find all four founders within him. Once, Helga took all the rest. Today I give her the best. HUFFLEPUFF!" This was going to cause problems if he did not respond, Teddy knew. If he was going to be thrust into the spotlight then he would accept that. It was better to utilise it, to turn the game around, instead of being bewildered and shirking away from it, and thereby fermenting problems. It was necessary to take immediate damage-control actions.

Hermione had barely removed the Hat, when Teddy spoke to her and the Hufflepuff table in a calm, measured tone – as much as an eleven-year-old could muster, anyway. "I respectfully protest against what the Hat said. The noble House of Helga Hufflepuff has never been about "the rest". My mother was in Hufflepuff. Great Witches like the Head of the DMLE, Madam Amelia Bones, the renowned Healer Susan Bones, Potioneer Damocles Belby were all Hufflepuffs, and each of them has achieved a lot. What the Hat just said was the genesis of the self-perpetuating philosophy and prophecy, and a kind of bigotry in its own right. "The rest" as the Hat said, was a term to define those who held the noble traits of all the other three Houses in spades, but could temper it all with sensible behaviour. I would have thought that with the intervention, attitudes would have changed, by now."

Hermione grimaced. It had been her immediate reaction too. Then she realised what the lad had done. He had easily deflected the animosity that the Hat's statements could have caused from his own house, giving them something to be proud of, instead. Then, he had pinched a very old magical artefact and the long-held beliefs of the magical world that was assimilating the enforced changes only grudgingly, right where it hurt. And he had done that in one go. Yet, he had not denigrated the other houses at all. He had acknowledged their importance. That meant that he would not be the receptacle of any ill-will. "Cunning," she mused.

Suddenly, the claps that started right behind her, made her jump. It was X, who had somehow materialised there. The Hufflepuff table soon took over. Where had he come from? She had never realised why and how she had no bothered to think about his abrupt disappearance when Teddy had snatched at the cloak. Now that she thought about it, she realised that the two had been talking with Hagrid. Did Teddy know about X? What if X was an ex-Unspeakable who was out for Teddy, slowly worming his way into his confidence? How did X appear around her? Why was anyone else not surprised by his disappearance and appearance? Most importantly, how did he appear across the castle wards?

Teddy could only smile. The Hat's parting comments could have caused problems for him in his new House. He had made the comments to ensure that the other three Houses were not alienated, but mostly to convey that whatever the Hat said, the Puffs would not alienate him. By painting Hufflepuff as the House that accepted all others, with a twist, he could keep people guessing about his reactions. It was obvious that he wouldn't roll over for anyone. It would have, otherwise, been a common misconception, that the whole House as such was one of the 'also-rans'. It was necessary to illustrate, accentuate and prove his position as the one of power. It had been one of his tutor's earliest lessons. Every position is a position of power – provided you believed that you hold power, and knew how to use it.

He also had a letter to write to Paw, and send back the galleon he'd won on the last wager. Paw had said that as much as DG had done, the changes would all be cosmetic. Attitudes could not be changed so easily – even if the changes were enforced with magical contracts.

* * *

 **Flashback:**

 **10** **th** **April, 2007:**

"I think you are ready, to meet someone who may not really hold the same views as we do, but would still be useful, all the same, Teddy," Harry said. It had become a tradition in their family of two. Every birthday (both his and Harry's), Halloween and Christmas, since the age of four, when Teddy was old enough to start understanding things, Harry introduced him to various people.

The Resurrection Stone was not a means to bring back the dead. No, to the wise who could recognise it for what it was, it was a means to bring back their memories, their knowledge and their worldly wisdom, accrued through their experiences. True, Cadmus had made the same mistake that Dumbledore had – they had both believed that it would bring back their loved ones. For all his wisdom, Dumbledore had succumbed to the stone in the same way people wasted away due to the images of 'what ifs', 'what could be' and what could have been'. The Stone served to teach that there was always more to a person than the body that no longer existed. The night of the last battle, Harry had learnt the nature of Death from his parents and Sirius and Remus.

On his ninth birthday, Teddy was going to meet Arcturus Black and Pollux Black.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Edward Lupin-Potter, Heir Black, at your service," Teddy intoned respectfully, with a slight bow. It was the greeting Paw had asked him to use. He had also been asked to subtly shift his appearance during the conversation. Paw wouldn't say why, but that was normal. When it came to the Stone of Learning, as Paw called it, Teddy knew that his father preferred that he learn on his own. The most he could use the stone for was thirty minutes to an hour at a stretch, and could then call the... _others_...once every two days. Why Paw had set that time limit, Teddy did not know. What he did know, though, was that the one time he had tried to exceed that time with his real Mum and Dad, they had become irritable and pained. Paw did not answer why, that day, for it had been very painful for Teddy. He had, however, promised to explain everything on his eleventh birthday, the one before he went off to Hogwarts, where he couldn't take the stone.

"Heir Black?" asked Pollux in his harsh voice. "I thought my grandson did not breed!"

Teddy had to fight the scowl that was threatening to break upon his face. He had met Uncle Padfoot, and liked him a lot. But he controlled himself. Both Paw and Uncle Padfoot had told him what the Black Family once was, and how much the old dog had been hated and had hated his family.

"I am not your grandson's son or grandson, Elder Black. I am descended from your granddaughters – my great-grandmother was Cassiopeia, not Walburga."

"And how would you claim that? The only worthy son born off my granddaughters is in my realm. And I had only two granddaughters. A third was born – the eldest – but she married a mudblood."

Harry had initiated Teddy into Occlumency on his fourth birthday, having spent the intervening years perfecting the art himself. Five years ago, the art did not have a name for Teddy. That day it did. Teddy remembered what Paw had told him. Every emotion and expression that graced his face, every syllable that he uttered was knowledge. It gave others knowledge about him. And knowledge was power. And any power that you gave another could be used against you. That was one of the earliest adages that Paw had driven into him. So, while one could never be totally blank and unspeaking, as that would destroy one's humanity, one could always control what power one gave another over oneself. Of course, the way Harry had taught Teddy this lesson was not the way Snape and the Dursleys had taught him. No. He had used his Marauder instinct for that, teasing and pranking his son as much as he could – but in a way that Teddy could understand the important life-lesson he was being taught, and also not in a way that would demoralise him.

The other thing that Paw had told Teddy was that he was ready to meet people who did not have the same views as he did. Paw had told him that such people could still be useful. The trick was to understand how. Paw was gearing him up for the real world, where people who did not believe in what he did, who held opposite views, were very likely to show hatred instead of trying to understand one another. Paw had told him about the war, and told him that this very inability of people to understand and accept the differences was what led to wars. He would find people like Pollux in real life. So this was practice. Teddy was supposed to practice how to react to such abusive people. The worst that Pollux could do was abuse him verbally. What better way to practice and toughen one's skin than sparring against real people? That they were dead only meant that even if their reactions were true, it wouldn't matter.

"Funnily enough, she was the only true Black." Teddy's tone was bland, impersonal.

"What do you mean, boy?" snarled Pollux.

"Andromeda Tonks nee Black was, along with Sirius and Regulus Black the only true Black that was born in that generation. Sirius Black did not bow to a man he knew nothing about. He did not follow what he did not believe in. Maybe, you hated him, but the family he chose for himself, loved him and still does. Regulus Black believed that he his parents were right. He knew them and thought that he should believe in what they believed. But when it was time to find his own way for himself, after making the worst mistake he could, he chose to find everything about the one he had once mindlessly followed, and realised that he was wrong. He had bowed to someone not worthy of his loyalty, and then chose in his own way to help the family he now recognised, his brother Sirius, to bring down the one who tried to enslave them both. He chose the path of the Black. He chose to become pure. Not pure of blood. The Black motto Toujours Pur stood for the heart. He chose to follow Toujours Pur le Coeur. Andromeda Black chose to remain pure to her heart. She chose to make a family that would make the Black motto proud. Her family was more a Black than what remained of it then. She was rewarded for it with the gifts of the Black family magic in her progeny. Can you say that for yourself? Can you say that for those granddaughters who bowed to a half-blood bastard and helped decimate the rest of the family?" He was sure that Paw would have been proud of the fact that he was not afraid to speak. Paw had had him talk to informal groups of people from very early on, but without the force that he had seen some people exert on their kids. He was instead, always drawn into discussions and was expected to speak his mind. These discussions, he remembered with a snort, had started from the subject of comparison between breakfast cereals. He was also entirely sure that he was going to have to brush twice for the b-word.

"Is it so?" Pollux sneered.

"Indeed," Teddy demurred.

"And what proof do you have for the purity of that blood-traitor?"

"Provide me proof for your purity and allegiance to the Black family before pointing fingers."

"I am a pureblood, boy."

Teddy transformed into an exact copy of Pollux. "And I am a purer Black than you'd ever be. Be gone, Pollux. The Black Family recognises you no longer as an honoured Elder."

Teddy knew that he had failed to adequately constrain his anger. He looked to Arcturus, who was smiling. Teddy met his eyes impassively.

"Dorea's grandson has done well by you. You are still young. You matched Pollux for nearly fifteen minutes. For fifteen minutes, you at the age of eight, after recognising the test for what it was, stood toe to toe against a bigot of the highest order, and kept your head. There are some things though, that only one who is born and bred, and willingly, a Black that can teach you how to gain power from the mistakes of another without losing control. Tell your father that I shall teach you how to be a true Black."

Teddy was astounded. "You don't believe in blood purity?"

"I would be lying if I said that. I did truly believe once, and still do, to an extent. But a Black does not cling to ideals that have no place in the world as it stands. A Black moves with the times, and does what is best for the House, for the family. Dorea's grandson, being more a Potter, likes to blow up things and an answer of 'that is how it is done' does not satisfy him. But he recognises the need to use what is best from among those traditions that are left behind. And he also recognises the need to refer to better people than he when involved with something he cannot do. Teaching you control is one of those things. I shall come to you and teach you that."

 **Flashback Ends.**

* * *

That confrontation against his great-great-grandfather had kick-started lessons in what Paw would call playing magical poker with no rules.

These lessons with Elder Arcturus helped him in many ways. Paw had made it abundantly clear that he was only going to hold the Lord-Emeritus position of the House of Black after Ted's eleventh birthday. While it was not de rigueur to do so, it was not against the laws either. (It was a not-widely practised, but still, not unknown Ritual of Abdication.) That meant that as a Black, Harry would submit to Teddy. That meant that sooner rather than later (if things went as Teddy wished, later would mean never), he would have to start taking interest in politics. Elder Arcturus told Teddy stories – the sort that no parent would really allow as moral stories to their kids. These were the stories of his time in the Slytherin Dorms. They had all boiled down to a few facts of life. Teddy had presented them as a summary a year later, eliciting the proudest smile from Arcturus.

Nobody liked being questioned. Nobody liked being criticised. Nobody liked being shown in a bad light. Nobody liked losing – or rather, nobody liked to feel that they had lost. That made people extremely defensive. That sort of defensive behaviour made people not listen to you. It led people to become belligerent. It did not endear you to people, whatever your intentions would be. It created enemies. It alienated people. Alienated people and enemies had a propensity to come together and plot one's downfall. Each negative word made you more enemies. And each enemy was like the root of a creeper – a new one sprung up from time to time, even if they were cut down. They would have to be painstakingly uprooted. It was a grim thing to tell a kid. But that was what the Blacks stood for. In the small community, and in the erstwhile top echelons, it was a man eats man world. The Black name had learnt to rise in spite of it all.

If at all there came a time when one had to give an opinion, one way or the other, the words had to be such that no one – absolutely no one should ever feel criticised. Accentuating your position at the top – in spite of others being in good position themselves – graciously, without putting others down and without coming across as a boast was immensely satisfying. That was exactly what had done when he had protested against what the Hat had said.

It was actually the first part of Teddy's education in the murky world of the confluence of business and politics. The later was provided by another tutor – one that Teddy hated, as most others did. It was only the stoic influence of Paw that had helped him through it.

Between those two teachers, Teddy learnt how to make allies and minions, how not to make enemies.

It was one of the many lessons that Teddy had learnt from many people called for a talk from the great beyond, lessons that were aimed to prepare and equip him to face life as it was and would be.

* * *

Lord Potter, the Lord-Emeritus Black sat in his room, caressing the unopened letter his son had sent him. He missed the kid. Harry had become a grim man, forged in the furnaces of war. It had been a terrible war, as all wars are. It had changed him. It had made him unfeeling – or would have, had it not been for Teddy.

Teddy had been the lone wild-flower growing among the ashes of a volcanic eruption for Harry. Being a single parent had not been easy. But after what Ginny had done, there was never any yearning for companionship, or to build a family. He had Teddy. And Teddy had him. That was all that mattered. It was as much family as mattered to him.

Sometime in primary school, Harry had learnt that "Child is the Father of Man." There was never anything truer than that. Teddy had made him what he was today. Lots of people had come into his life – for better or for worse. Most had been taken from him. Some had been cast away. Some sought to control him, to mould him. Everyone had expectations from him. He had had to do things that no innocent eleven year-old, nor an eighteen year-old should have had to do. He had seen and experienced more death than any normal person should. It had hardened him. It had made him a grim person, a grim old teen. But it had not made him a man. For throughout his life, he had coasted along from the rules, choices and decisions of one person to another. His life, before the war had never really been his own.

All the life that Harry remembered before the War had made him bitter. In his most bitter moments, Harry had sometimes hated his parents for taking away his choice. Wouldn't he have chosen to be with them, happy in eternity? He hated Dumbledore for taking him away from Sirius. He hated Sirius for not choosing him instead of revenge against Wormtail. He hated Remus for not coming for him, for listening to Dumbledore instead. He hated Trelawney for spitting out that blasted prophecy. He hated Snape for just existing. He hated Wormtail and Voldemort for that very reason even more. He hated the Order for isolating him, for trying to make him impervious to losses. He hated the Ministry for its part in the war – that of a slandering machine and then trying to hitch a ride on his duty. He hated Augusta Longbottom and Amelia Bones for not even trying to think of taking him in, as the Will of his parents had clearly stated. He hated the magical society of Britain for not retaliating. He hated it for folding at the first sign of danger. He hated Ron for winning Hermione's affection, when he had just been a git to her all along. He hated Ginny and Ron for the way they had cruelly stomped on him by betraying Teddy. Most of all, he hated himself for surviving the war, when he had nothing to live for.

Teddy had become that **_something_** to live for. He had become the anchor to his sanity. It had started from simple things – feeding him, changing his nappies, putting him off to sleep when Andromeda had still been alive. Then Harry had become Teddy's father. Harry had been the witness for Teddy's first tooth, his first attempt at crawling, at walking; Harry had heard Teddy's first word. The small baby had slowly and steadily chipped away the rock that he had become, to rejuvenate the human underneath. It had been enough to make Harry panic. This was another person that Harry had grown to love. What would he do if Teddy was taken away too? Harry had found the answer to that very early, when he had eliminated the Lestranges and the Malfoys for even thinking of that. It had nearly thrown him into depression, having to do those despicable things. But the innocent little baby, even younger than he had been when he had lost his parents had brought him back. It had made Harry responsible. He had realised that he had the need to make the world as safe as he could for Teddy, and for all other 'Teddy's in the world. It became his mission in life. Indeed. Teddy had made him a man.


	4. Exceeds Expectations

**Exceeds Expectations**

* * *

Any names and situations used are purely fictional. If any similarity with real life occurs, it is purely accidental.

* * *

The Hufflepuff-Slytherin first year class had gathered outside the DADA classroom for their first lecture on the subject. 'Lecture' was – considering everything they had heard about the class – a very vague term. The fourth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had had the class the previous day, and Derrick Wood, Oliver's son, had told Teddy to expect the unexpected when asked about the class.

Exactly fifteen second before the class was to begin, the door creaked open with an eerie noise in what almost everyone recognised as something that often claimed to be special effects in tacky muggle movies. The only and important difference was that in a magical school, it certainly had the potential to actually be horrific.

A Hufflepuff made to move towards the door when Daphne Rosier, a Slytherin first year, spoke the words of wisdom.

"Stop!" commanded she in a sharp tone. "We don't know what lies behind this door. We have no means to ascertain anything."

Immediately, the Slytherin crest on her uniform glowed brightly and a golden numeral '5' appeared over it briefly. Daphne smiled. It was the manner in which points were assigned to students in the post-DG Hogwarts. The points were assigned to individual students, and then they were added at the end of the year for the House Cup. They weren't displayed as they once were, and the assignment was silent. This meant that nobody could know if other House members salvaged the points they lost, and this led to everyone attempting their very best to ensure that it wasn't them who was found lacking.

"What do we do?" someone asked.

"We can only perceive darkness from our side," Teddy observed. He sent a jet of bluebell flames in the opening between the frame and the door. "I think that if we...shed a little light on matters, we may know more," he declared calmly. The five points he gained for that were ignored in favour of the eye-roll Rosier sent his way. Beside him, Dennis Lehmann, a fellow Hufflepuff, friend, and an all-round genial bloke snorted. With their wands at ready, the first year students crept towards the door, a braver and less cautious one pushing it open with some force. The poor kid was immediately stunned, and his limp form vanished. Nobody even saw the direction that the stunner came from, or who cast it for that matter; nor did they see how and where he disappeared to.

The students were now in a complete quandary. They couldn't go in. They couldn't find a volunteer who'd find out what would happen if he or she was up for the adventured. Flora Evans, first-year Slytherin, was the next to earn points as she found the solution to that. "We don't know what will happen if some _one_ goes in. Why don't we send in some _thing_ instead? Perhaps pebbles or sticks would do the trick?"

"And how can we go outside when we have a class now?" someone asked.

"We don't need to go outside. We can always ask for help and ask someone to fetch us what we need," replied Flora. "Is there a House-Elf around please?" Several of the purebloods nearly smacked their foreheads in realisation and self-deprecation.

An elf popped into existence in front of her. "What is Boris being helping Miss with? What is Miss being wanting?"

"Would you please fetch five pebbles each for all of us?"

If the House-Elf was puzzled by the request, he didn't show it. He just collected a hundred pebbles and deposited them in a heap at Flora's feet. Flora also earned fifteen points for her actions. Teddy was observing her closely and curiously. He knew that Daphne was his cousin – his great grandmother was Druella Rosier. Funnily, Flora seemed to be one too. She looked so much like Gran Lily, except the eyes – they were sea green, unlike Gran Lily's and Paws' Emerald Green.

"Thank you Boris. We will make sure that we don't litter the castle with the pebbles when we are done. We will throw them into the grounds," Daphne said, as she collected her five pebbles.

The elf nodded and popped off.

The students stood together and started throwing in pebbles one by one in a turn-wise manner. To an extent, it worked. The haphazardly thrown pebbles flashed as they were hit by stunners and vanished. But somewhere along the way, the eleven year olds started behaving like eleven year olds and they threw the pebbles exactly where they last knew the red light to have struck. It turned from the educational exercise into a game.

There was an audible chuckle somewhere behind them and they saw the hooded figure of X. The Professor simply waved his wand, and brought down all the constructs and educational aids. "Inside please," X said softly.

The class filed in quietly, still a bit shocked by the sudden appearance of the Professor. X meanwhile, summoned the stunned student, William Wagner and revived him. X also had to cure a bruise on William's arm where a wayward pebble had struck.

Taking a deep breath, X went straight to the heart of the matter. "Welcome, class! This small exercise that you participated in today was a demonstration to make you aware of the things that you may someday encounter in the real world. The DADA is a complex subject. It combines all your other subjects, and even mundane things. In this class there is one motto that you should always remember – **_Everything_** can hurt you, and **_everything_** can help you. It is my job to teach you how to utilise everything to your benefit in whatever situation you may be in. Remember, DADA is serious business. You will use it if you are a Healer, a Warder, an Auror, a Curse-breaker... the list of potential professions that DADA opens up is practically limitless within the confines of magic, given that this subject utilises Transfiguration, Charms, Care, Herbology, Runes – you name it.

"Our classes will be four days a week. As you may have observed, Friday is marked for physical training. You will be assigned a set of actions and exercises that you will perform for the following week, including Saturdays and Sundays from six thirty sharp, in what was once called the Chamber of Secrets. This will start from the 11th. Are we clear?"

"Yes!" chorused the class.

"Good. Now onwards, remember that the homework for all of you will be a list of all sorts of defensive uses for any and all spells and potions taught during the week. I will want at least ten uses per instance _._ Am I clear?"

"Yes!"

"Now, for the ground rules. You will never call me anything but X. Secondly, at no point, will you point your wand at another person unless it is during supervised practice. Should I get a report that someone was hurt – I am not talking about pranks; I have pulled enough of them to know the difference between bullying and a benign, funny prank – actually **_hurt_** , I will give you daily detentions that will make your Fridays seem like a walk in the park. Thirdly – and this is something I want you to remember for your whole life – if someone points a wand at you or yours, **_just bloody well get out of the line of fire!_** "

The class started giggling and then attempting to stifle the giggles as their teacher swore.

"You think it is funny? Then see how you manage this!" X started sending tickling hexes randomly. Some dodged, some couldn't. People burst into peals of raucous laughter, while those still in their senses kept dodging. Exactly one minute and twelve second later, when everyone had been captured in the thrall of the charm, X undid the charms on everyone with a wave of his wand. He also had to make the messes vanish and surreptitiously clean some people up. Excessive exposure to tickling is known to short term cause loss of muscle control.

"Was it funny?" X asked softly.

The students stuttered or slurred as they answered in the negative.

"What I used was only a mild tickling charm. It caused severe trouble to you all, didn't it?"

He didn't need their pensive and twitchy nods as answers for the rhetorical question, really.

"The tickling charm, itching hex, stinging hex and the Cruciatus Curse are all essentially the same thing, remember that. Each of them provides stimulus to the nerve endings at the surface. The difference is only in the impact. The Cruciatus Curse, an Unforgiveable unless used in controlled conditions by certified professionals for very limited uses, is known to drive people catatonic, then insane, and then as close to brain dead or Dementor Kissed as possible without those conditions actually taking place. A strong magical could easily place you under the body binding curse – which I will be teaching you to break, over the course of this year, incidentally – and then put you under the tickling or itching hexes. Unlike the stinging hex or the Cruciatus which need either repeated casting or continuous casting, these two hexes could easily drive you insane and it would be a long time before such an occurrence would be detected at all. They certainly won't be detected by the Ministry tracers as they are not 'Dark Magic'."

The class was enthralled as they saw the serious situations unfolding in their mind's eye. They were now hanging onto every word that X spoke.

"Now we have barely twenty five minutes left for this lesson to end, so I will summarise what you will be learning. The ICW certified course is what we will follow – **_largely_** – but I will be helping you build a spell arsenal. How many of you have played PC games?"

Most of them had, with even most of the purebloods visiting their mundane-born or -raised friends' places. It was one of the positive side-effects of the Dumbledore schools.

"That's good. So our classes will be structured in three-week sections. The first two will have you learning, researching and practising and the next will have quizzes and tests. Once you fare well in those, you will fight the 'boss' of that level. Defeat him/she/it, whatever, and you level up and gain stats. You will have those self-updating stat-sheets by Monday. Savvy?"

This time the answer was an enthusiastic, resounding "yes!"

"Next, we will create personalised spell chains. That means that in any situation, you should be able to cast that chain without conscious thought. That apart, I will be teaching you some spells that will keep you a step ahead in the situations you faced today. That's all that we will do apart from the standard syllabus."

"Now, let's get to the part that I looked forward to since before the lecture. What were you all thinking when you encountered the entry set-up?"

The students looked at him in a perplexed manner. X realised that the phrasing of the question had them thinking that he was scolding them in some way.

"Let me rephrase that. Mr. Wagner, Ms. Rosier, Mr. Lupin, Ms. Evans all took decisions. The rest of you did not. So I want to know what the immediate thoughts that crossed your minds were when you saw the set-up at the entrance from those of you that followed."

The class was quiet for a prolonged moment, before Derek, Dennis' twin answered, "I thought that you wanted to scare us away from the class and that we could get a free period because of that." That lightened the mood in the class quite considerably.

Chuckling, X retorted, "Well, I did intend to scare you lot a bit, but certainly not enough to warrant a free period. Who else?"

A little girl in yellow and black robes raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss -?"

"Mellon, Ivy Mellon."

"Shaken, not stirred?" someone called teasingly.

Ivy looked at the general area blankly for a moment then asked, "Did someone just crack a James Bond joke?"

"Did he?" asked someone.

Ivy shook her head. "May I answer?" she asked X testily.

"Yes. I am sorry, Ms. Mellon. I should have stopped that."

Ivy glared a bit before she answered, "I thought there might be a password."

"I see," replied X. "Speak 'friend' and enter?"

"Professor!" scolded Ivy shrilly in indignation.

"Sorry, really," X said. "I was out of place." Then he turned completely serious and explained, "It wouldn't have worked. Some places may have passwords in blood, magical languages like Mermish or in foreign languages altogether. And password spells are notoriously difficult to break. But that was a very good idea. Five points to you, Ms. Fr- Ms. Mellon!"

"My first thought was that you must have misplaced your class schedules and forgotten that we were just first years. It pointed at very... **_different_** teaching techniques," replied Raymond Vaisey. The inflection on 'different' left nobody in doubt that that word was used as a euphemistic substitute for 'substandard'.

"And your next thoughts were?" While the tone was curious, it also held a smirk.

"To wait and watch and see what would happen."

X let out a snigger. "In other words, you meant to 'let others make fools of themselves while you watched the fun'."

Raymond flushed visibly.

"That actually is one of the answers I was looking for. As much as it may scare you, taking initiative in this class will always be rewarded, irrespective of whether or not it works. It is my job to correct your mistakes. It is my job to help bring any thoughts you have on the matter onto the most efficient, useful and defensively sound track. Nobody will be a fool for taking the initiative. And as for the outlook Mr. Vaisey displayed, it is and will always be unappreciated in my class. You are all a team. A team will have leaders – probably different leaders in different situations. A team doesn't leave a member behind. A team looks out for its members. Every class will be a challenge. Prove that you can win, as a team. That's not the _**way, see**_? Next?"

There was silence, and then Marissa Scuttlebeck answered, "I didn't like to entertain the idea of going into something blind. It went against my gut feeling."

"Excellent, Ms. -?"

"Scuttlebeck, sir. And please don't crack a joke about my surname and ask me whether I scuttled back from the room," the girl answered absolutely tongue-in-cheek.

"Alright; go spoil my fun," X said morosely. Then he brightened and said, "Anyway, twenty points to Hufflepuff! That is one of the most important things to remember. As Auror Moody would've said, a part of the motto of DADA will be 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE!'" The sudden bark made the students jump. "Well that, and always listen to your gut feelings if it screams out that there is danger. That's your self-preservation kicking in. It lets you live longer to fight again."

Finally someone asked, "What would have been the correct way to deal with the entrance, sir?"

X seemed to ponder for a while before answering. "There are several ways, really. There never is **_one_** correct way. One of the charms that I shall teach you is 'Avis'. You get a bunch of birds that are controlled by your wand. You could send them in. That's essentially what you did with the pebbles, but I forgot that you'd be likely to get enraptured by the pretty lights of the curses." The students couldn't see his face, but knew that he must've had a teasing grin on his face.

"The other spell that I will teach you, 'Detego Magicae', essentially works like the IR camera. You'll be able to...see...magic and any magical person. Combining that with the 'Homenum Revelio' will give you a description of existing magic in the surroundings, so long as it isn't cast by blood magic. The point of the exercise was to make you think of exactly what you'd need. I would say that you lot exceeded my expectations."

The lesson ended there, so X stood at the door, asking them all to fire a spell at a board as they left. It was to record their magical signatures. Homework assignments, test papers and the like no longer bore the name of the student/candidate. The supremacists had milked that heavily to fudge the test results in the favour of their heirs. The magical signature was kept as a comparison resource, and the identity was encrypted. It was another thing that DG had introduced. This system worked like biometrics. It helped ensure fair grading.

Teddy was among the last to leave.

"Please stay back, Mr. Lupin."

"Yes, X."

When the last student had left after casting a curious glance at the pair of them, Teddy closed the door behind him as he walked towards X, who had by now removed the hood.

"How are you Uncle Xerxes?"

"As well as I can be, cub. And don't call me that. Why that fool of a mother gave me that name I'll never know..." muttered Xerxes. Teddy snickered at their usual exchange. "You tell me Ted. How's old Hogwarts treating you?"

"Wonderfully!" replied Teddy without much enthusiasm. He then wrinkled his nose. "What exactly did you spray here?"

"You can smell it, eh?"

Teddy gave X a dense look.

"Huh... wrong question; of course you can. It is a combination of a calming draught, cheering solution, a teeny tiny measure of the Felix Felicis, and babbling potion."

"Smells like rotting carcasses," Teddy grumbled.

"Tell me about it, git. I spent four hours working on a mix that wouldn't be overpowering and then I have to spend the day with those smells. And you know that it is worse for me."

"But why do it at all? Isn't that manipulation?"

"I needed them to speak, Ted. It is normal human tendency to not want to be seen as foolish or to not be looked down upon. It may be okay in some cases. This class definitely isn't it. People still shirk from the onerous task of thinking."

"Sheep, the bloody lot of them," agreed Teddy. "Paw is as cynical as a person can be, and I can't for the life of me fault him. When you meet him, just tell him to keep the galleon. Nothing's changed. Absolutely nothing. People refuse to take decisions after **_thinking_** about matters. And they absolutely loathe taking responsibility for their actions."

"What's got the little cub so angry?"

"I am not little!" Teddy growled at a smiling X. He then sighed. "It is just as Paw warned. I am supposed to be the little magical monkey who can do all sorts of tricks, because I am Harry Potter's son. I must know magic better than anyone, I must be powerful... I thought I had escaped his shadow."

"Dorm-mates, I take it?"

"No. Not the dorm-mates as the older students. They ask thinly veiled questions about where I was these past eleven years, what life with Harry Potter is like and so on and so forth. Some of the seventh year girls asked me whether he had a _girlfriend!_ It's like I am not worth getting to know about on my own merit!"

"Easy now, Ted!" reprimanded Xerxes with a growl. "That is a shadow that has protected us for so long. I will not have you complaining about that!"

* * *

Flashback: Year 1998-99

* * *

In the three years after the escape from Magical England, Harry, and by extension Teddy, had no fixed home. They had started off in Wales, hiding in the cottage in Godric's Hollow for a while, appearing for the world to be just another father and son. It was difficult to maintain their cover, what with Teddy always finding something fascinating and changing colours like the human chameleon he was. It was often necessary to memory charm the hell out of somebody. It was also difficult to keep pace with the growing child. It always seemed as if he was running out of time. This led to an obsession with time manipulation. He could hardly apply to the Ministry for a time turner. True, Dumbledore had left him his, but it was Ministry registered. So Harry stole books, burnt the midnight oil, and brute-forced through Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Had he stopped to think, he would've realised that he was attempting to cram five years worth of introductory studies and further Mastery-level training in less than three months. He did realise that when he was halfway through the subjects. So Harry deconstructed the available time turner and reverse engineered it, going over each part as described by some obscure books, and with the help of his mother, who had been an Unspeakable-in-training, via the Resurrection Stone. That was when he had realised the utility of the stone as a means of gaining knowledge.

If he and Teddy were being traced, the rare power of the metamorphmagus was easy to recognise and tag. And given the state that he had left things in England in, it was highly likely that he might have once again been tagged as an Undesirable. He didn't trust Hermione, who he was sure would have guessed who it was that had eliminated the Malfoys and the Lestranges, to not snitch him out to the authorities. She was too respectful of authority to not do so. That apart, he had accused her **_boyfriend_** of being a traitor. She was unlikely to take that well. He was also unsure about her part in the whole 'approach the DoM' fiasco. Ginny and Ron's memories didn't implicate her actively, but Ron was never able to keep a secret, a loudmouth that he was. And Hermione, the clever witch that she was, would have guessed what the pair intended to do. She was a risk.

Harry had met Robert and Helen just before he had left for Wales, but not thereafter. It was easy to become attached to the couple who treated him not as a foolish boy whose only status was that of a puppet to be used by whoever decided to at that point of time, but as an individual with thoughts, ideas, feelings, and emotions in his own right. He had told them about the ways that memories and secrets could be extracted from people's minds as an explanation for why he couldn't tell them where he was going. It was very manipulative to play on their residual anger at Hermione for modifying her memories, but with Teddy's safety at risk, no path was abhorrent. Their only request was to be allowed to meet Teddy as much as was possible and to keep in contact. They too had become attached to the baby and his godfather. Knowing that he could easily go in over his head with parenthood, he had agreed, with the sole stipulation that Hermione would never know about their involvement with Teddy.

They had left the British Isles in December. The first stop had been Asia. An up-and-coming economy, the sheer population as well as a far more lax enforcement of the Statute of Secrecy made it easy for Harry to slip under the radar. It was obvious that money would be a problem for the most part.

It was on the plane to India that he had met an IT Professional of Indian origin who was returning to his homeland from the States to witness and take part in the inevitable boom of the software industry in the country. This man, who'd be based in Pune, had given him an overview of the subject, and Harry had kept him talking as he decided that he wanted to be there for the birth of something that would fetch him enough money and better opportunities to raise his son comfortably.

Once in India, Harry had gone off the muggle radar, and had invested himself in the sole objective of training himself in Runes, Arithmancy and software, not necessarily in that order. It wasn't an easy proposition at all. In despair, he had once again called on his parents. They had suggested that he call upon Luna Lovegood.

Luna proved to be an excellent teacher. While she was more than proficient in the magical subjects, her natural ability to think in non-linear ways helped him immensely as he went about amassing the muggle skill.

Harry once again went about demonstrating a trait he had shown through his school years. So long as he needed something, he would and could learn just about anything that he would set his mind to, if it helped him achieve what he wanted. Harry managed, with the help of the use of the time turner and with Luna's help, to learn it all in two and a half months of normal time (equivalent to just a bit more than a year, in practice).

Harry, or rather Mukund Vaze, his alternate persona (aided by language charms and observation skills honed by years of learning to stay out of Vernon Dursleys' way) simultaneously was keeping a job which paid him six and a half thousand rupees at the same time. Every so often, he had to magic his way out of situations. But he persevered and got through. By February 1999, he was considered skilled enough to be sent to the USA for on-site projects with a massive pay rise. He stayed at the job for two-and-a-bit years, getting a green card in the process. He left when the furore around his disappearance had died out in England according to Robert and Helen. It was then that he reactivated the now dormant Potter and Black accounts.

Being a father to the baby had been a near full time job. He was amazed how much the increased mobility could enhance the trouble creating capabilities of a slightly lupine metamorphmagus. That had turned him towards the parenting guidebook. The sheer number of magical monitoring schemes that Teddy was under would have made anyone think he was a prisoner. Every so often, Harry had to jump back in time to soothe the just awoken baby, or to prevent some sort of mishap at home while at the same time working in his office to keep his job. The constant time travelling had aged Harry by nearly ten years in terms of time lived. But it was a labour of love.

The stone had been a godsend in those times. As the fabled Master of Death, he could call the spirits for as long as he deemed it necessary. While they couldn't actually handle Teddy as they were incorporeal, Remus and Tonks managed to help Harry raise Teddy in other ways. It meant that they never lost the chance to help raise their boy. They weren't visible to Teddy, seeing as he wasn't the one to call them, but it was the best they could get.

They also had to mind Harry every now and then as he went into world class funks, his simmering rage, often barely constrained by his single-minded focus, winning against his deep-seated desire to be the best godfather to Teddy that he could be. They talked him out of the funks. Harry not knowing discipline beyond his Uncle's brutal force, couldn't, at the outset, really discipline Teddy, fearing that he might resort to the same means. So they had to talk him into taking a firm stand and teaching the meaning of the word 'NO' to both the boys. They also had to talk Harry out of the gut-wrenching sorrow he had felt when Teddy had called him 'Dada'. It was Harry's biggest fear – him replacing Remus and Dora in Teddy's mind, even though he had always planned for Teddy to know them once he became old enough to understand. It caused a resumption of his wishful thinking – a world where Remus and Tonks were alive, instead of him. It had taken weeks for the Lupins to assure him that they didn't hate Harry for what had happened, all over again.

It wasn't easy by any means, but neither of the four would trade it for the world. Even though it was never spoken, they were family, as odd as it was, what with two of them being dead.

While he was on the run, Harry brought out his inner explorer. He immersed himself in local cultures. India and USA both being very vast countries geographically, as well as culturally (at least as far as magic was concerned, in the USA), he learnt new magics, made an effort to understand how things worked in different places and how really... ** _primitive_** the magic he had learnt at Hogwarts seemed as compared to all the new things he was learning. Magic, he realised was not a means to just do things, as it was reduced to in jolly ol' England, but a way of life, integrated very easily into beliefs which transcended the artificial barriers of the Statute. Sure there were quacks (where wouldn't one find quacks?) who would fleece the masses for money, but often he would find the real deal, sometimes helping people through miracles or through actual actions in ways that worked around the Statute with loopholes and with the crutches of local mundane beliefs.

He also developed a closer relationship with Gringotts with whom he had to keep contact to prove that he was alive indeed. It was there that he learnt arguably everything that would later become his successful mission in life.

In all this, he had learnt that Teddy had not lost the lycanthrope genes from his father completely. While the child never transformed, he still experienced physiological changes every full moon. The splitting migraines which made him cry in pain, the pain in the aching limbs that gentle massages could alleviate only so much, the fear that accompanied the changes, and the natural unpredictability of babies gave both the father and son a lot to deal with. Harry was unable to discern whether Teddy would eventually be a full-fledged werewolf as he grew. So he had decided to attempt the animagus transformation. He eventually succeeded, even though it turned out that Teddy wouldn't need the comfort.

* * *

Flashback ends

* * *

"I know and I am sorry," Teddy said sadly. "But I fear that I will never measure up to him."

"When exactly has he required you to 'measure up to him', as you put it?" Never. That one word was the simple, unabridged truth. Xerxes could see that answer in Teddy's eyes. "So why are you worried about what other people think? Forget that you are his son. If people ask questions, rebuff them politely. It simply isn't any of their business. Imply that you _cannot_ say where you were. Have you forgotten your lessons already?"

Teddy nodded, and rubbed a hand across his face tiredly. "By Merlin, I am missing Paw, already."

"Are you now?"

"Yes. Absolutely. I wish I could just go home where I am just me and not... well you know what I mean. I miss Paw. I miss the Stone of Learning; Alan, Edgar, Melissa, Walter, and Jessica; talking to mum, dad, Uncle Padfoot, Grampa James, Gran Lily, Grampa Ted, Gran Andy... Here it is really drudgery."

"It's not as if there's nobody here that you are at home with."

"It's not the same!" protested Teddy. "All those Uncles and Aunts that I am blessed with are all teachers here. And as for **_them_** , I can't even act as if I know them if **_she_** is around. How frustrating is that?"

"You could always owl them and talk to them in the RoR."

" ** _She_** knows about the RoR."

"Really Ted, Harry never raised you to even detest her."

Teddy just grimaced.

"Bloody hell, kid! Just complain to him alright? He will be here in my stead on Friday."

"Paw will be coming here for your... day?"

"When has he ever missed?" X asked with a raised eyebrow.

* * *

Flashback: Year 2002

* * *

Thirteen year-old Xerxes Villa was running through the streets of Catalonia, having just filched a small crate of apples from a vendor.

-x-

Life hadn't been good for the young wizard. He was born into a family of Parselmouths. After the war in Britain, which had very nearly spilled out onto the Continent, the level of distrust against Parselmouths was at an unprecedentedly high point, the fact that the hero of the war was a Parselmouth notwithstanding. The Villa family was thus almost entirely shunned by the villagers. If that by itself wasn't a big enough problem, they had their inherited poverty to contend with. For all intents and purposes, Xerxes was born with a wooden spoon in his mouth. As much as family and love were good as utopian ideals to pull through adversity, there was only so long before empty stomachs would make empty vessels of people and said empty vessels clashed, making a lot of noise. The circumstances of Xerxes' childhood had taught him a lot about hunting and foraging. Stealing fruit from someone's gardens, kidnapping and killing lost chicken for food, hunting in the lower reaches of the Andorran Mountains where his home village was, were all skills he had acquired. It was often arduous to hunt in the mountains as they had to ensure that they didn't stray across the borders into France.

And then came the terrible full moon of June 2001. Xerxes and his father Andre were on an overnight camping/hunting trip in the mountains. A werewolf in those very mountains had attacked them. Andre had died from the wounds. Xerxes was unfortunate enough to survive – with a bite. His mother had apparated him and his two little sisters away from the village as soon as she could – even his father's last rites got the short shrift. Xerxes had been treated, but word got out, and the family were given the choice to leave completely or ask the monster, Xerxes to leave. Xerxes had known that it would come to that. He had left.

But it wasn't a thirteen year old adolescent who had left – he was an embittered thirteen year old man. A dark creature with a dark ability even while he was human, meant that Xerxes now only received distrust and hatred from 'normal' humans, even among the magicals. He had started to lash out. A deep-seated hatred for the world took root in his mind. He had already turned to petty crime for sustenance as he moved from village to village.

-x-

The trip down memory lane proved costly for Xerxes as he tripped over a jutting cobblestone, the crate slipping from his hand. His winded chaser advanced upon him with a manic gleam in his eyes, his very demeanour promising the thief punishment that he would remember all his life. Just as the vendor brought down his leg from a massive backlift, aiming a kick at his ribcage, the man was stopped by a very strong grip on his shoulder.

His saviour was a man just short of six feet in height, who looked to be about twenty years of age, and had a baby in his arms, but even with that relatively placid image, he looked altogether too dangerous. Xerxes could only watch as the man said something to the vendor, before eventually paying him some money, presumably for the crate. Xerxes was about to pick the crate and run for it, when the man stopped him.

Xerxes couldn't believe his misfortune. The one who had saved him turned out to be Harry Potter, defeater of the Parselmouth Dark Lord, hater of the dark extraordinaire. He really should have not broadcasted his thoughts verbally, even though it was just a mumble. Or perhaps, it was the right thing to do. For, with a smirk on his face, the Harry Potter had hissed at him in Parseltongue, asking him his name. Xerxes was unsure exactly how long he had stood there with his mouth open in shock. That one incident had changed Xerxes' life.

Harry Potter had booked him a room in the hotel he was staying in. They had talked. Xerxes had told him about his life, all the time wondering why Potter was interested and why he was speaking to Potter in the first place. (It was only years later that he found out that his libation had been laced with the same mix that he would eventually use in his classes to reduce the anxiety of his students, though there was a deodorising charm on what he drank.) When it came to him being a werewolf, Potter had told him that he was an animagus, so if Xerxes wanted, he would have company on the full moon nights.

Eventually, Harry had offered Xerxes a position. He would be as close to being a paid family member as was possible. Xerxes would get education, food, shelter, the Wolfsbane potion, protection and company on the full moon nights. In return, Xerxes would have to be little Teddy's Uncle X. Xerxes had jumped at the chance, and had never looked back since.

In the following years, Harry had treated Xerxes as a brother, and Xerxes too, had come to place Harry on the pedestal of an older brother/father figure. He had helped the boy earn his Mastery in DADA, taught him all he knew, helped him to attain balance with the wolf and helped him with the girl he had fallen in love with eventually. Teddy became a favourite nephew who Xerxes now adored. Xerxes daily thanked the jutting cobblestone.

* * *

Flashback Ends

* * *

"Never," agreed Teddy apologetically. "So why did you ask me to wait?"

"To tell you that Harry will be around. He wanted to give you something. I don't know what. His message was, "Be ready to heft a medium-sized cage." Make of that what you will."


	5. The Institute

**The Institute**

While I have tried to keep the flashbacks to a minimum, my intention is to use them as the backstories to pertinent parts or to explain the reaosns for certain events. This chapter doesn't have them, because it doesn't need them.

* * *

The erstwhile Chamber of Secrets had been turned into a hall of exercise and a gymnasium modelled right after the real, ancient Greek constructions – barring of course the attire of choice. Students were required to purchase two sets of normal workout clothes, which were then charmed to be self-fitting so that they didn't have to spend money on new ones again for the rest of their time at Hogwarts.

The twenty six of the twenty seven first years currently using the facilities, however, were about as appreciative of them as Voldemort was of the muggleborn.

Where once the shrieks of Fawkes, the insane ramblings of Tom Riddle, the hissing of the basilisk and the seemingly deathbed apology of Harry Potter had reverberated, the Chamber was now filled with the groans of twenty six aching first years as they tried to move after the strenuous workout which X had termed as 'light'.

"Come on you rugrats!" growled X. "You are but eleven! My eighty-year-old grandmother is stronger and limber than you lot!"

The only answers he received were more groans and muttered swearing.

"Language there, young man!" barked X. "Up you get! A lap around the room you shall take! Your tongue for you cure it will!"

When the kid wouldn't move, a tickling hex found its mark. Left without a choice, the kid had to break into a run, as the tickling subsided the more he ran.

Once the kid had returned, X barked, "That's it for today! The segment one and two stretches will be available as illustrated prints as you go out. Remember to take them. And I shall know if you haven't practised them! Up and out you go!"

As the students filed group-wise into the changing rooms, X couldn't help but look around the place – a place where he had faced a terrible horror.

Harry was moderately impressed with what he had seen at Hogwarts so far. The discriminatory slurs were down to an infinitesimal minimum, the quality of education was outstanding, the students were really well cared for, and there was none of the petty foolishness which both the Marauders as well as Draco and his clique had been guilty of during their respective times at the castle. It wasn't the place he once called home, but it was, all the same, his favourite place in the world. It was even more so now, because his son, for the most part was happy here. There had been a mini bust up when he had asked Xerxes to take up the vacant post, but that had been quickly put to rest.

As much as he had loved this place, where he had truly lived, had fought, had learnt – a bit, and had died, he was sure as hell not ever going to let his cub have any experiences and adventures of the sort that he'd had. And so, in spite of close friends like Daphne, Neville...and Lady Dagworth-Granger (Harry could never consider her anything less than his closest friend, even though he had assiduously avoided contact with her out of some stupid notion) being present, he had had Xerxes be around at Hogwarts.

"X?"

"Yes?"

"Would you let us out, please?"

"Oh, sorry about that," X murmured, hissing at the doorway and the elevator.

The Chamber had been remodelled to imitate the Batcave from the most recent Batman movie. First off, the abandoned Girls' Bathroom had been demolished. As Myrtle had gone on after Tom's death, there had been no problems on that account. The tunnel down to the Chamber had fallen through during the battle, just after Weasley and Lady Dagworth-Granger emerged from it after they had destroyed the Cup. The whole place had been reconstructed in such a way that to any person, looking from either the top or the bottom, would see a sheer cliff past the door. Two sets of elevator platforms transported people. This was especially important, because a structural audit had revealed a stress line due to the pressure from the lake. With prior permission from the mermen and the Board of Governors, the lake had been drained off, before the stonework was re-laid and pressure valves that would drain off the excess during flash or torrential rains had been routed through the fifty metre high fall.

The space without the Chamber was fairly large, and it had been modelled into an auditorium. Like in mundane schools, Hogwarts too had annual days, school plays and the like.

As a security measure, so that nobody would get stuck in, anyone accessing the place had to have passes. Also, since not everybody was a Parseltongue, there was an automated password speaker...or well, hisser. So, a magi-biometric system which spoke the password to the doors had been given to all staff.

There had been severe outcries against all that because of the 'loss of tradition'. Those same people, when they got the chance to see their children during the school year, had turned grudging supporters.

And Harry had been massively proud of all that his other baby, the DG, had accomplished, not only because of the achievements themselves, but also because of the legacy that it would be. The DG, whether anyone knew the founder or not, had become a legacy, one which he hoped Teddy would drive forward given the signs of interest he had been showing. So many people had joined, had volunteered, helped and shown the organisation the way forward in some cases, whether it was for one project or full-time. Many people had sought to change the magical world, for better or for worse, but it had been DG that had succeeded.

And Hogwarts was one of DG's biggest success stories. What was even more interesting was the identity of the operatives that had overseen these changes – Robert and Helen Granger. Nobody would ever know that.

 _It was in late 2004 that Robert and Helen, who were visiting their favourite unofficial grandson Teddy, raised the issue of restructuring Hogwarts. As soon as he had started the DG, Harry had communicated what he was doing to the couple. It was, incidentally their first contact in person after Harry had left._

 _Robert had liked the idea immensely, and had observed the matters closely. As the father of war-heroine Hermione Granger, he was one of two muggles accorded respect by the magical society. He had also struck an unlikely friendship with Tom, the owner of the Leaky Cauldron. In the afternoons, which were the lull period for the pub, Richard and Tom would talk about just anything in the magical world. This had made Richard the prime candidate to be Harry's barometer for change. He had wholeheartedly approved of what the organisation was doing, and what it had achieved._

 _Helen, on the other hand, had been the one who had observed the students when she used to visit Hermione at Hogwarts. She had observed the students. What she saw was a generation of students that wanted to change and wanted a new direction from the war that they had known about somewhat, but didn't know the way. She had also found Neville and Daphne, as well as Minerva McGonagall to be fairly good conversationalists. She had made her lists (Hermione had to get that from somewhere!) for changes that she thought were needed at Hogwarts._

 _"_ _Harry, there's something that we mean to ask you."_

 _"_ _Yes?"_

 _"_ _The DG, do you think we could be involved?"_

 _"_ _I don't see why not." Seeing the smiles that had graced the couple's faces, he ventured, "You are looking altogether too happy with the idea – just like she did when she got into forming the DA. What's the pet project you have?"_

 _"_ _Hogwarts," they answered in unison._

 _"_ _Have a Plan?"_

 _"_ _We have one. It's tentative, but we thought we should run it by you once."_

 _And they did. It was ambitious. It was also massive – so massive that it would have been a bit too difficult to shove down the throats of the resisting public. So it had been staggered into stages. Hogwarts, after all, had to change as the students did._

 _His Grace Lord Potter-Black, had, then sent a personal letter to Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, proposing changes and monetary help for Hogwarts which he otherwise wished to be kept secret. And he had sunk all the Malfoy Wealth into turning Hogwarts around by the Grangers' plan. Hogwarts had been a personal fiefdom for the Board that refused to use the money. It had actually been conceived as a no-profit-no-loss school. The fees were supposed to be an exact match to the sum total of costs incurred, including material and inventory margins._

 _Successive administrations after the early 1800's had started treating it as a business, turning the profits into their pockets. Phineas Nigellus, the then Headmaster, and his brother Aries Leo, the then Head of House Black (surprise, surprise!) who had done a bit of a George Graham, indulging in kickbacks had laundered in money to the House of Black, had both been in a Royal Snit when a muggle plot to return that hard-earned money had come to fruition. Gits._

And so it was that it wasn't Hermione Granger, but her mundane parents that had changed Hogwarts for the better. Everything that had been changed had germinated from their ideas which had been translated – for lack of a better word – from the mundane origins to the magical domain. And it had become an important benchmark for other schools that once had to attempt to catch up with Hogwarts. There was a lot that could be done for his alma mater, and the Grangers had had Harry start the process through his channels and their ways.

* * *

"Paw?" called a voice from near his shoulder. It was Teddy.

"'Lo Ted."

"You wanted me to carry a 'medium sized cage'. What was that about?"

"Ah yes. You remember Luna had told us about –"

"You brought the Crumple-Horned Snorkack Aunty Loony always tells me about!" Ted broke in enthusiastically.

"What have I told you about calling her Loony, Ted?"

"But she always makes me call her that," Ted whined.

"Then don't call her that around me!" Harry scolded.

"Sorry Paw."

Harry nodded curtly.

"Are we going to give it to Hagrid?"

"Of course," Harry replied with a smile. "I want you to approach him first though. I don't think I've met him since after that day."

Ted frowned. It had been the matter of major disagreements between father and son. Ted didn't like the fact that Harry had cut off everyone from his life at the time under the notion of protecting his godson. Harry was convinced that at that time it was extremely necessary, and privately felt that Ted was sometimes a bit too bossy.

"Did you meet the rest of them?"

"Yes. Called on Theo yester-morning, then met Daphne, Neville and Hannah last evening for dinner," he duly reported.

Bringing the subject back to the original track, Ted asked, "Where is it?"

"In the office; you go on. I'll bring it to Hagrid's under this guise. Nobody will know."

Ten minutes later, Ted and a large black wolf were standing next to a cage that was emitting squelching/squeaking sounds outside Hagrid's hut.

"Come in Ted, wha' a surprise!" boomed Hagrid. "Quite the early bird aren' yeh? Evn yer go'father an' his frien's waited till about a mon' inter school ter come visit me."

"Yes. I wanted to show you this new creature that I never saw in the beastiary that you'd given to Paw. May we come in?"

It was then that Hagrid saw the cage and the wolf.

"Who 'ave we go' here?" he asked, approaching the wolf cautiously. It looked feral, and was certainly far larger than a normal wolf. It was jet black. That wasn't beyond the normal. The Black Wolf after all is a variation of the grey wolf, the largest among the wolves. What was different was the distinctly different colour of the paws. They were blood red. That sort of a discoloration was absolutely uncommon – nay, unique.

"That's Bloodpaw," Ted introduced the wolf. Hagrid seemed to ignore that. He was checking the wolf very closely. There was something way too familiar about it. The fur, he realised, stuck up in all directions. That was alright, not so much to bother about. But it was the eyes. Again, it was not an uncommon thing. Yet he couldn't help feeling that this wolf was more than just a wolf, that this wolf was a friend. The penny just wouldn't drop.

Harry couldn't help but grin as he transformed and sat cross-legged across his first friend ever.

"Hi Hagrid."

The Half-Giant stared at the man for a complete minute. Then he just picked Harry by the scruff of his neck and proceeded to hug the stuffing out of him.

"Where 'ave yeh been?" Hagrid croaked at last. "Last I see yeh, yeh were dead and then alive, 'arry! Where 'ave yeh been?" Hagrid's voice was rising as he spoke.

"I have been away Hagrid. I am a wolf. I have a cub, the last of my pack to protect."

"Remus made yeh godfather?"

"Yes. You didn't know? Hermione's his godmother. I thought she might've told you."

Hagrid looked at Harry with more than a little anger. "Hermione's no' bin too well, 'arry."

"What happened to her?" Harry asked worriedly. He hadn't known that Hermione was unwell. Had Hagrid not been angry at the man sitting in front of him, he might have smiled a secret smile (it was easy for him with the forest of facial hair to keep his smiles secret) at the immediate worry.

"Well, yeh know 'ow she was before 'alloween, don' yeh? All frien'less an' shy li'l chit she was. When yeh did a runner, she los' 'er bes' frien'. The' Weasley wen' an' broke 'er 'eart."

Harry shifted guiltily. The break-up between his ex-friend and Hermione had been partially – well, largely – his doing. He had done many things at that time that retrospectively, were not good things at all. In his mind, at that time, he had been saving Hermione from Ron.

Deciding that he had to explain himself a bit, he finally spoke. "Well, I had to do a runner, Hagrid. Weasley and the little Weaslette set Unspeakables after Teddy. I couldn't come back till that danger was gone."

Hagrid was a simple man, even very innocent. But he wasn't foolish. He had the ability to make logical conclusions when presented with facts. "Is tha' why yeh made 'em Weasleys all fo'git all about yeh?" he asked shrewdly.

"Yes. He became the Peter Pettigrew for us."

Hagrid didn't show it but he was a bit shocked by the accusation. He'd always thought of Harry and Weasley to be as thick as James and Sirius.

"Can we talk of better things than them?" Ted asked irritably. "You have met after eleven long years; don't waste this meeting talking about people you don't like."

Hagrid's eyes crinkled around a smile. "Righ' yeh are, Ted. 'suppose tha's the bit of Remus, innit? So, 'arry, 'ow 'ave yeh bin doin'?"

Harry grinned at his cub, and then his first friend. "I've been doing quite well, Hagrid. Britain's changing. That's half the things I need to be more than fine already."

"Is tha' why yeh've returned, 'arry?"

"Sort of. You do know X is a werewolf, right?" Hagrid nodded. It had been made clear to the staff. "I am his replacement."

Hagrid smiled broadly. "Yeh were a great teacher, Dumbledore tol' me that'. Great man, Dumbledore," Hagrid added with a sniffle.

"Yes, great man, Dumbledore," Harry agreed amiably.

"So yeh 'ave the Masteries an' all?"

"Yes. One in DADA, another in charms, and a very thorough grounding in mundane Computer Science," Harry answered. "That actually brings me to one of the reasons why I sought you."

"Yes?"

"You got your Mastery in Care, didn't you?"

"Yes. Hermione made me appear fo' the exams. She is brilliant, but bossed me until the exams."

Harry smiled at the memories that brought up. Shaking his head, he brought himself to the present. "Do you remember Luna Lovegood?"

"Yeah, I do. She was one o' the few stude'ts tha' were my frien's. Miss 'er a lot. Brough' up all sort o' strange beasties, but she was the good sort."

"Remember the Crumple-Horned Snorkack that she used to speak about?"

"Yeah..."

Harry opened the cage. There were four small rabbit-like creatures with the hind legs of an antelope and the forelegs of a cat. Each creature had horns on its head that closely resembled the state of a crumpled empty can of fizzy drinks. "This," Harry started Harry dramatically, "is a Crumple Horned Snorkack."

"They're real!" Hagrid exulted. "They're such wee little beasties!"

"They are like Luna, Hagrid; calm and collected and nice till they are troubled. Don't let nifflers or any rodents come near them. Against rodents they can go on a rampage."

"Food?"

"The same as you'd give an owl, rodents. They like to hunt in the afternoons. I am not quite sure what they hunt, it's most certainly not anything larger than them."

"You wan' me ter take care of 'em?"

"I want you to learn about them. They are the only ones out of all those creatures that she used to talk about that I have managed to find. These little buggers don't really think much about human contact."

"O' course!" agreed Hagrid jovially. "Yeh think I should try ter breed 'em or summat?"

"Yes."

"I'll try." Then with the broadest grin he'd worn in a while, he thanked Harry for the new challenge. "None be findin' me new critters ter look afta fo' a while, 'arry!" he informed the wolf animagus.

"Well I'm happy that you are up for the challenge, Hagrid. I've got an offer for you, if you are up for a trip."

"An offer?"

"Yes. I've got you a job offer, if you think you can manage it with your work here, or exclusively there."

"Now yeh've got me interested, 'arry. Lemme git me cloak an' stuff, eh?"

"Sure. Ted, wait up in the common room alright? I want to meet you later. I've never seen the Hufflepuff common room, even though I've seen the Slytherins' and Ravenclaws'."

"'Kay, Paw!"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they were standing on a very large area which would have otherwise seemed non-existent on the world's map.

"Whe' are we, 'arry?" This place was, for Hagrid, heaven.

"This is my island in the Northern Atlantic Ocean," Harry replied. "It's as big as the Snowdonia, Shropshire AONB and the Cairngorms combined."

"Blimey! Tha's massive!"

"It is. This is also the Luna Lovegood Memorial Institute of Magi-Zoology."

Hagrid's eyes, which had widened at that, softened considerably. "She was a dear girl, wasn' she?"

"Aye, she was."

Shaking of the maudlin moment, Harry showed Hagrid around the island. It was equipped with the standard weather controlling spells set up using runes for longevity. The Rune stones had been placed at intervals of half a kilometre along the boundary of each section dedicated to a particular habitat, creating a special boundary. It had a two nautical mile territorial boundary extending into the sea to house aquatic creatures. The populations were under close control – the island hoped to be the magical equivalent of Noah's Ark, and therefore could only house two or at best three pairs for very large territorial animals like dragons.

At the centre of the island was the building which would house the Institute by itself. It was about a quarter of Hogwarts' building's size in terms of ground area occupied. An equal amount of space around it was the only demarcation to separate it from the habitat grounds. A portkey grid with controls at the institute helped the conservators and the staff to tend to any problems as soon as possible. As far as protection went, there were the standard ones. The island was unplottable, invisible to mundane eyes, and had beacons and buoys around it in the sea itself shepherded ships to the correct routes around the island. In most cases, it would have been an encroachment on the territorial waters of several countries. However, an agreement by a private investor who wished to remain anonymous to create an area for natural conservation with the countries having the North Atlantic Ocean as an international boundary had paved the way for the island's construction.

"It's beau'ful!" Hagrid claimed. "It's beyond beau'ful!"

"You like it?"

"D'yeh 'ave ter ask, 'arry?"

"Would you consider working here?"

"O' course I would! I'd be a fool ter not want teh!"

"That's good! We have a post for a researcher open. We are researching habitats and estimating what sort of creatures would survive where – a kind of zoological divination, if you'd care for the explanation."

"I'm in!"Hagrid decided. Then he frowned. "Bu' I can't leave 'ogwarts permanently, 'arry. It's bin me 'ome for more'n fifty years."

"I wouldn't ask you to, Hagrid. Look you are the gamekeeper as well as the Professor for Care. You could choose to keep any one of those posts. I'd suggest you choose the Professorship. That way, if any of your students show promise, you can bring them here. As for your research, it is more of recording what you see in the places. I don't think it'd be difficult for you. The Forbidden Forest always spoke to you Hagrid. This will be an entire island speaking to you."

Hagrid spent some time talking to the staff. Some had been from Hogwarts and knew the friendly half-giant from their time there. They showed him a few new creatures that they had found or relocated for conservation on the island. A boat ride into the sea showed them the Avalonian narwhal, a true giant of the sea. There was the reef which had been constructed carefully and isolated to create an underwater habitat resembling the Great Barrier Reef. The little magical creatures flitting through were things that even Hagrid had never seen. For him, this was heaven.

"'arry?"

"Yes Hagrid?"

"When we starte' the tour, those blokes there put some magic onter me. Wha' was tha'?"

"Biological isolation, sterilisation and autoclaving," Harry replied. "You live in a magic-rich environment. Magical parasites of some sort or the other, vectors for diseases that these animals contract, often cling to our clothes and stuff. We wouldn't want them to fall ill, would we?"

"So that thing, it was making me cleaner?"

"Sort of. That procedure is compulsory whenever anyone switches between habitats." Hagrid was still frowning in confusion. "The magical diseases and animals living in Scotland and Egypt are different, yes?"

"Yes."

"Now, if an animal from one of those regions, is let lose in the other, and manages to survive, that animal starts taking up territory?"

"Yes." And then the penny dropped for Hagrid. "So wha' they did makes it impossible for the two 'abitats tah mix, and keeps 'em 'ealthy!"

"Exactly! We had that problem, you know. We didn't realise it at first, but there was a problem due to the explosion of Ashwinder eggs when they came too close to a phoenix having a burning day."

Hagrid cringed and flinched impressively. "I see tha'."

"Now the example was for a fairly big creature – we can see Ashwinders and phoenixes. What about microbial, that is, beasties so small that we can't see them?"

"There are such beasties?" Hagrid asked, partly excited at the idea of creatures not being large enough to be seen, and partly horror-struck at having ignored hitherto them.

"There are," Harry confirmed. "However, they cause diseases. We lost our first herd of Hippogriffs to them last year. That was what prompted us to start using the BISA every time we travelled across a habitat. They were Congolese wing-rotting bacteria."

"Oh."

As they sailed back towards Scotland, Hagrid had a very pensive expression on his face. He had always wanted to learn about all kinds of creatures from across the world. However, his time at Hogwarts as a student had culminated in expulsion, putting paid to any ambitions he had harboured. Now though, after fifty years, he was getting a chance. Was it too late? Harry had put it together as soon as he could have; there was no doubt about that. That sort of a sanctuary couldn't be built within a year – it had to have been in the works for six years at least.

But the problem that bugged Hagrid was of a very different kind. Hogwarts had been his home for as long as he cared to remember. Being the Gamekeeper, his friendship with the Centaur herd, taking care of the Unicorns, chasing away the mischievous students hell-bent on undertaking an excursion into the forest had been his life ever since 1942. That was a span of nearly seventy years! Hogwarts was an integral part of him, as he was of Hogwarts. Would it be possible that at eighty, he could accomplish this massive change?

When he had instantly given his assent to Harry, he had been enamoured with what he saw, and was also thinking of the century or more that he could spend there. After all, his Giant ancestry made his life-span longer than even that of magical humans. But letting go of all that had defined his life at Hogwarts to start a new adventure...was it a good thing to do?

"Are you unsure about this venture, Hagrid?"

"Nah, tha's no' the pro'lem, 'arry. Tis' no' 'bout the island. We', no' completely 'bout the island."

"What is it then, Hagrid?"

"I'm eighty, 'arry. I am used tah considerin' meself human. I'm gettin' old."

"That's a load of old tosh and you know it, Hagrid. You've got at least another century to live – a century and half with your lifestyle."

"I know. Bu' goin' the', learnin' all the new beasties, an' everythin' else will be new. Am I too old ter learn?"

"Do you wish to be too old to learn? Dumbledore had once told me that he found Hogwarts enchanting because the castle and the students taught him something new every day. He was a hundred and thirty five himself. That's nearly fifty five years older than you are now."

"Tha' true..."

"Look, Hagrid, I can understand. You feel as if you are saying goodbye to a part of yourself. You aren't really, are you? You are just getting a larger playground."

"Tha' I am," Hagrid replied with a grin.

The rest of the boat ride went silently. When they touched shore, Harry configured a portkey to take them to just outside the Hogwarts gates. "So what do you think, Hagrid? Are you going to track back and refuse, or are you game for a new challenge?"

"Must I tell yeh now, 'arry?"

"Well, I'll be visiting McGonagall immediately, and ask her permission to recruit you. I wouldn't want to propose it and not have you willing, would I?"

Hagrid relapsed into another lengthy silence.

"Can yeh give me a short contract? I'll see how it goes an' 'en commit long-term."

"Seems sensible," agreed Harry. "In case you decide not to commit long-term, would you put the word out among the Beast Masters? Someone that you think would do well will have a really good recommendation."

Hagrid glowed at the implied praise. "O' course, I'll do that! Yeh din' need ter ask, 'arry!"

"Thanks Hagrid. It means a lot. That island is a way to conserve our natural magical heritage, as well as commemorating Luna. I started building it on her birth anniversary, the 13th of February 2003."

Hagrid only nodded. There was little he could say that would adequately console Harry. He had treasured his friends, and Luna was among them.

As they reached his hut, Hagrid finally asked a question that was as unrelated to their previous conversation as it was intriguing.

"Say, 'arry, why are your animagus form's paws red?"

Harry's face morphed into something that was a cross between a devilishly cruel grin and a snarl. "Well, I got some blood on my hands – that of my Death Eater cousins on the Black side like the Lestranges, when I had to protect my pup. It translated to my animagus form's blood red paws."

Hagrid returned a grim nod. Who better to understand the true reason behind violence than one of Giant descent?

* * *

The black-furred, green-eyed, red-pawed wolf trotted into the castle, more like a dog than a wolf, sniffing the trail for its cub's scent. He just wanted to meet Teddy before he would have to go away for another month. Remus had had to remind him that he was a big boy now, and it wouldn't do to miss the boy as much as he was.

Suddenly, another scent assaulted Bloodpaw's senses. It was very familiar. It was parchment, vanilla, something slightly minty and a flowery something else that he had never been able to place. It had been the one he had smelt when Slughorn had taught them all about Amortentia. Bloodpaw froze. Under the lights of the everlasting sconces (now bespelled to alternate between LED type white lights and yellow lights), the wolf saw the one person he had studiously avoided for eleven long years.

Hermione was taking a walk through the castle. It was one of the compulsive habits she had developed since she had taken over from Minerva, that helped her calm down. The OWL students had been the subjects of her ire most recently. Fooling about during her lectures was something she hated. Suddenly she became aware of another presence near her. It was a wolf. What was a wolf doing in the castle?

"You!" she shouted, pointing her wand at the wolf. "Shoo!"

The wolf cocked its head at her, and then gave her a very amused (amused?) grin. Then instead of running towards the doors when she shot a spell at it on reflex, it started to run inwards.

"It just had to be today," she muttered irritably as she chased after it.

The wolf indeed did lead her on a merry chase as it went around to all the places in the castle that it remembered. And having quite forgotten about her anger at the fifth years, Hermione had something new to concentrate on. It took her a good ten minutes before Hermione started to realise that each of these places held a memory. The troll, the Polyjuice potion, the Gryffindor common room, the classroom where she remembered teaching Harry the summoning charm, the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy...

Something clicked and she stopped. Looking at the wolf curiously, she approached it cautiously and extended a hand to it. The animal was just too odd. It was supposed to be a bloody wolf, not a dog, for Merlin's sake. Just as she was about to touch it, the wolf gave a soft yip and started running again, making her groan as she started chasing it again. Then just as abruptly, it vanished on a straight.

For Hermione, this started alarm bells ringing at harsh decibels. She changed her path and started for the Headmistress' office. This thing could be dangerous. Come to think of it, the only other being she had seen do that was X, and the staff had been told that he was a werewolf. That creature wasn't.

Practically running up to the gargoyle, she blurted out the password, "Gamp's Cup-winning Silver Arrow."

The spiralling staircase was still rotating upwards – someone had just used it to enter the Headmistress' office. Not knowing whether Minerva would be inside, and whether the mystery entrant was an intruder, she drew out her wand and hopped onto the staircase. Without waiting to knock, she burst in.

"HEADMISTRESS, THERE IS AN IN-" she started, but her words were cut off when she saw her immediate superior, the Heads of the four Houses (Neville for Gryffindor, Septima Vector for Slytherin, Filius Flitwick for Ravenclaw and Alicia Atherton for Hufflepuff), and a man who stood awkwardly as he made to withdraw the cowl of his cloak, and had certainly been startled, turning to face her.

"It is good that you came, Lady Dagworth-Granger," the Headmistress said primly. "I had sent you a message through the intercom but it was unanswered. Our guest reports that you have taken a fancy to the hobby of chasing after innocent but dangerous animals in the school premises. Most unfitting of your station, I should say."

Minerva's mouth started twitching as Hermione briefly imitated a fish before brushing a Gryffindor scarlet.

"It's not a big matter, Headmistress," the guest said as he went through his action. "I was quite touched to note that Her Grace still has the practice needed to chase after an animal. I daresay I gave her quite a bit of the practice during our school years."

It was Harry.

* * *

Hermione stared at the boy – no, Harry had been a boy when she had last seen him; now he was a man – who had been her best friend for seven years. The laughter around her did not even register to her as she stood dumbfounded, taking in the sight of her friend. He had changed. Taller than she remembered him, Harry now looked a picture of health, something that he had never been till she had last seen him. He looked self-assured. She didn't even register him approaching her.

"Good evening, Your Grace," he said as he placed a kiss on her right knuckle.

"H-Harry?" she stuttered.

He just smiled at her, the infernal prat.

"Lord Potter-Black..."

"Just Lord Potter, Headmistress," Harry interrupted. "I am Lord Black Emeritus. I abdicated the seat for the rightful Heir, my son."

"You gave a young boy the Lordship?" Minerva asked in shock (quite forgetting that it wasn't her place to interfere in House Business).

Harry responded with a raised eyebrow. "I believe it is my decision and mine alone to choose the time of abdication, Madam. My **_son_** ," he emphasised with a hard glare, "is **The** Black, legally, rightfully and uncontested by any that were unfit to bear that name, as they bowed to another, relinquishing their loyalty to House Black."

Minerva flushed. "I apologise, My Lord."

"Indeed." Harry was not going to allow her to either question or undermine Teddy in any manner, never mind that she was the Headmistress. It was what had happened throughout his time here, and he would be damned if he let Teddy be bereft of that extra bit of protection that being Lord Black gave.

Neville meanwhile, frowned and asked, "Is abdication possible?"

"There is a ritual to that effect, My Lord Longbottom." Then he gazed at all the people in turn. "Vagaries and intricacies of House matters aside, I believe we have business to attend."

"Yes, My Lord," Minerva agreed weakly, with a sigh.

Changing his demeanour, he drew out six invitation cards. "These are the invitation cards for the inauguration of the LLMIM."

"The LLMIM?" asked Minerva.

"The Luna Lovegood Memorial Institute of Magi-zoology," Harry answered softly.

The responses were immediate as they were varied. Neville gave a heartfelt sigh and a beaming smile. He was one of the few people who had known Luna's fate, and had at that time, been in hospital. Luna was, along with Miss Weasley, one of the two people who had helped him protect Hogwarts while Harry, Hermione and Weasley were off searching those foul things. This way to remember her had been his idea. Not that either of Harry or he had known at that time that her creatures were truly existent, till Neville and Hannah had met up with Harry and Teddy on a holiday in Iceland of all places. They had found the creature while Teddy was charming his Aunt Hannah.

Hermione choked a sob as she remembered her friend. She was another that had been lost.

Madam Vector and Professor Atherton had not known the quirky Ravenclaw much. But hers had been one of the names on the lists of heroes of Hogwarts – the lists of those who had fought the final battle for their side. Such a person was a sore loss, after all.

Flitwick and McGonagall had sobered up. They remembered the blonde girl that Potter had befriended sometime in his fifth year and had fought with him thrice. The girl, kidnapped by those Malfoy beasts, had helped protect Hogwarts before then. They hadn't known much about her before then, or what had happened to her after, but she was a student who had given much to the school.

Neville read the date, "The eighteenth of October, Harry?"

"I couldn't find a better way to remember her, Nev," Harry replied sadly. "The last day that she graced earth seemed appropriate."

"'Graced'...quite the appropriate word for her," Neville agreed. "Headmistress?"

"Of course, Professor Longbottom," Minerva agreed immediately, "We shall all be there, Lord Potter."

"Please, Professor, in this matter, I shall prefer it if we dropped the formalities. After all, I am looking forward to poaching one of your teachers, Hagrid, Madam."

"POACHING?" Minerva shouted in a scandalised manner. "Never in all my years, had I expected **_you_** to stoop to that level, Harry Potter! How can you talk about poaching Hagrid?"

Harry was taken aback by the sudden vehemence. He blinked at her, and then he blinked again. He looked around to Neville, Hermione and the others for help but found only anger. Something was amiss here.

"Professor, is there something wrong?" Harry asked tentatively.

"IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG?" Minerva hissed. "YOU HAVE THE SHEER AUDACITY TO WANT TO POACH HAGRID? AND YOU ASK ME WHETHER SOMETHING IS WRONG? HAVE YOU GOT AN AGENDA LIKE UMBRIDGE AGAINST GIANTS?"

That explained it. Harry looked at his old teacher, and then started laughing uproariously. Minerva looked at him with further disgust, a look that was copied by her colleagues, as well as the portraits. Dumbledore's portrait had a particularly pained and scandalised look as he started wondering where he had gone wrong with the boy.

Harry finally calmed down enough to explain. "I-I am sorry, M-Ma'am!" he attempted to explain around chuckles. He stopped for a while as he let the chuckles subside. Then he took a deep breath and started again.

"I am really sorry Madam," he said again, his eyes still sparkling with unshed mirth. "We are having two different conversations altogether. You see, I worked briefly in the IT sector in the mundane world. The term 'poaching' refers to giving the employee of another company a lucrative job offer. I am just offering Hagrid a job as a researcher at the Institute."

"Oh." The response was rather sheepish, considering what they had mentally accused Harry of, as the younger Professors started laughing (a bit uneasily) as well.

"I am also rather offended that you'd think that of me, Headmistress," Harry admonished. "And you too, Professor Dumbledore, I saw your expression."

"My apologies, my boy," portrait-Dumbledore replied with a smile. "One gains a certain predilection towards jumping to conclusions in old age, and magicals particularly find that tendency exacerbated. I must say that I am quite proud of what you are doing with the Institute."

"Thank you, sir." Turning to Minerva, he asked, "So what do you think, Headmistress? You will have to appoint another Keeper of Keys and Gamekeeper."

"But he shall remain at Hogwarts as the Care of Magical Creatures professor?"

"Yes Madam. He will."

"Won't there be a conflict of interest?"

"No. In the mundane world, it is de rigueur for teachers to have varied research interests. As of now, the contract that I shall give Hagrid will be on a short-term basis. If he feels comfortable, he shall continue."

"What will Hogwarts gain from this?"

Harry looked at his ex-teacher seriously before answering. "Professor Hagrid will have his hands full if you allow him to join us, but knowing Hagrid, he is likely to make groundbreaking discoveries regarding his beloved animals. That will get him international acclaim. Now, we both know that Hagrid will never leave Hogwarts. So his acclaim, by association, will be shared by Hogwarts."

"You are making it sound like the Professors from smaller colleges getting research grants at Cambridge, Harry," Hermione interjected softly, marvelling at the proposal.

"That's exactly my point, Your Grace," Harry retorted excitedly. Hermione winced slightly. "Hogwarts doesn't cater to the Mastery-level education exclusively. However, having an internationally acclaimed master in a field makes Hogwarts more lucrative as an option. Hagrid will, then, be a major selling point for you when you decide to make a pitch for Hogwarts as a top-level school."

When Harry had accepted the magical-equivalent-to-Cambridge analogy, Hermione was sold. The next statement made her truly excited about the possibilities.

"Now, that Institute is only the starting point. It was also the most difficult, as we had to actually recreate existing habitats. So resources were a bit of a problem. However, similar campuses dealing with say, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, Arithmancy and so on and so forth are in the pipeline, so to speak. Those campuses together will be the first British Magical University. As such with acclaimed Masters on your staff, you could very well pitch Hogwarts up to foreign students as well."

"You know, Potter, that sort of ambition was why I wanted to put you in Slytherin. Though, I must say, from what I have read in your son's mind, you were good enough to be The Black indeed," declared the hat.

"I have regretted overruling you several times since then, Mr. Hat."

The Hat gave a smug smile.

"What do you think Professors?"

"I personally think that is a swell idea, Lord Potter," Flitwick squeaked. "As a Ravenclaw, I would've been eternally thankful for it."

"Indeed, my Lord," Minerva said. "It will revolutionise the scope of education in Britain. I shall be there to support the endeavour wholeheartedly."

"Thank you, Professors. It means a lot. And, er, about Hagrid?"

"If he is willing, I can certainly see the benefits of allowing the 'poaching'."

Harry grinned widely. "Then I best go talk to him, if I may have your leave, Professor."

Minerva smiled and nodded.

"Bye," Harry called brightly.

Hermione made to move, but stayed as she looked at the Headmistress.

"Go, Hermione. I will not have you held back from giving him a what for on my account."

Hermione didn't need to be told twice.

Dumbledore gave a raspy chuckle and looked to the portrait beside him that was feigning sleep. "So Severus?"

"He is Lily's boy, alright," the dour man accepted grudgingly.

Hermione, who had just reached the door, nearly bumped heads with Harry, as he peeped in, his wand flicking slightly at Snape's portrait. With a grin he called, "Gee, thanks Snivellus!"

The other occupants of the room roared with laughter as Snape shrieked, "POTTER!" The portrait's robes had been turned pink, with a matching mohawk.


End file.
